Professing to be professors
by Pahoehoe
Summary: Angel Investigations receives an unusual job offer from a man named Albus Dumbledore. Crossover Harry PotterAngel
1. Job hunting

Disclaimer: I have borrowed these characters and places from their owners in an effort to stave off boredom in the wee hours of the morning. This means that not only do I not own them, I can't afford the legal fees for claiming that I do.

Professing to be professors

Chapter 1 – Job hunting

Angel was sitting in his office multitasking. That is, he was reading about ways to kill psychic, flesh eating demons that Cordelia's latest vision had set them on, should any more ever come back after they killed the first nest of them, and brooding at the same time. Constituting all the multitasking Angel was capable of outside of life and death battles. His mind was wandering nearly 200 years into the past, to the site of a particularly vicious massacre of his and Darla's making at an evening garden party. Angel's mind was getting steadily filled with immense waves of guilt. He would have remained in the state of self flagellation all day had Cordelia not suddenly started yelling. He snapped back to reality to ascertain whether it was a yell insinuating a life threatening situation.

He rose from his desk, flattening his ancient text upside down on the desk in one quick motion and headed to the door of his office.

It was a life threatening situation.

But not to him or Cordelia.

Wesely had just come through the door, apparently having just had a demonic encounter of some type, if the immensely odorous gray goop all over his linen suit was any indication. Cordelia's yell had come when he had come in the door and proceeded to drip on the floor runner Cordelia had purchased only the day before. As she was with almost anything Wesley did, Cordelia was incensed. Angel could tell she had been bottling up a good rant for days.

"WESLEY! Do I have to install a shower at the door to keep this place demon innard free?" She irately scolded the rather messy watcher.

Wesley's mouth opened and closed a few times.

Angel folded his arms and leaned in the doorway. This could be entertaining for quite some time if Cordelia really worked on the rant. Though she did have a point. Lately the office had been subject to a rather extreme crop of demon messes. There was the vampire who had burst in looking to make a reputation. It turns out that vampire dust is extremely difficult to get out of carpet. Then there was the slime demon that had crashed through the window and then hit a chair and exploded all over the front office and Cordelia. It had taken a shopping spree out of his pocket to subdue Cordelia after that one. Also the unidentified demon with the pus dripping spines and the Minkata that had shed everywhere… Now that he thought about it, Angel could see that Cordelia's rant_ really_ did have a point. Angel did not join in however, Wesley was looking flummoxed enough without being lectured by a vampire at the same time.

As it was, Angel felt it would be best if he let Cordelia get all of her rage out on Wesley before he reminded her of his presence. After all, no need to unnecessarily put oneself in the gauntlet.

"Well, pardon me Cordelia!" Wesley huffed in a disturbingly Giles-like manner. "It's not as if the forces of evil are careful about cleanliness, especially for rogue demon hunters such as me."

Cordelia rolled her eyes.

"Go shower immediately. And use the cleaning rags as towels!"

Wesley looked insulted but headed for the stairs anyway.

"Avoid the carpets!" Cordelia yelled down the stairs after him.

A frustrated noise without any actual words in it floated up the stairs, followed by a door slam.

Slightly disappointed that the show was over, Angel made to go back to his reading and brooding activities, when an emphatic throat clearing from Cordelia stopped him in his undead tracks.

"We need to talk."

Angel cautiously turned around and felt his heart sink at the determined expression on Cordelia's face. Months of experience had taught him that unless the Powers that Be intervened, he would be doing whatever she wanted in a very short amount of time.

"We need to take the business up a notch." Cordelia said, watching his eyes closely.

Angel had expected this. Angel investigations hadn't had a paying client for nearly six weeks. Bills were piling up and the numerous repair and cleaning bills from demon encounters in the office were expensive.

"What am I supposed to do, Cordelia?" He asked. "This isn't about money, not for me anyway. I'm supposed to be helping people, not charging them for their demonic misfortune."

"Well you still need to pay me, and I need. . . things." Cordelia retorted, having the grace to look slightly abashed before speaking.

Angel merely stared. Cordelia gave up on convincing him of any course of action. For the time being. Eventually Angel would see it her way, when the electricity got cut off and his pig's blood spoiled.

At her silence Angel decided it was safe to go back to his book. The Powers That Be had other plans. Cordelia's annoyed expression blossomed into one of pain. Angel rushed forward to catch her before she fell to the floor and held her till the vision and its resultant convulsions ended.

"Cordelia? Cordelia!" Angel asked. "Are you alright?" As Cordelia's breathing suddenly became harsh. Cordelia nodded, and held her head. Slowly her breathing went back to normal, but the look of pain on her face faded only a little.

"Painkillers would be nice." Cordelia suggested. Angel took the hint and after guiding her to the couch found the bottle in her desk. After Cordelia had been sufficiently supplied with Tylenol and water Angel grabbed a pen and a pad of paper and looked at her expectantly. He sensed they might have a little time to spare with this vision, otherwise she would have told him where to go immediately.

"It was an old man, a really old man, he had white hair and a long white beard. He was wearing a cape and. . . robes I think, in dark blue. He's looking for something." Cordelia said. "That's all I got."

"No locations?" Angel asked. Cordelia shook her head. "Maybe this one will come to us."

"Maybe this one will pay us." Cordelia muttered.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Caritas was having a slow night. Only a few tables were occupied by a group of intoxicated slime demons, a surly looking Mordak beast, and an elderly man dressed strangely in robes with a defeated look about him. Knowing that conversation with either of the former parties would prove useless and possibly violent Lorne refreshed his sea breeze and sauntered over to the old man.

"Hey there buckaroo."

The old man looked up. He took in the sight and sound of Lorne with only the smallest amount of surprise, and then smiled.

"Hello, Mr. . . ?" He asked in a British accent.

"Just Lorne. What's troubling you, Mr. . . ?" Lorne asked, doing a polite imitation of his patron. The patron smiled.

"Just Albus. The trouble is I came quite a long way to find someone for a job and it turns out that he turned dark at some point and was killed in his chosen profession. Now I'm a bit at a loss." Albus said tiredly.

"That does put you in a bit of a bad spot." Lorne mused. "What kind of job were you looking to fill?"

"A teaching position at my school. The school opens in three weeks and I'm feeling slightly desperate." Said Albus.

"I might be able to recommend someone to you." Said Lorne, taking a sip of his sea breeze as Albus brightened considerably. "The only catch is that you need to sing a bit for me."

"Sing?" Questioned Albus.

"One of my many talents is being able to sense destinies, but most don't walk around with their destiny hanging out for anyone with empathic power to see. Hence the singing. When you sing, you bare your soul and give yours truly a look at your destiny." Lorne explained.

"How positively marvelous!" said Albus, looking truly delighted. He then launched into a beautiful rendition of 'Bippity Boppity Boo' from the animated Disney 'Cinderella'. Lorne listened to the first verse and the chorus just to hear the song come out of a real magic users mouth, then stopped Albus, who looked as though he was having a great time.

"That'll do, cupcake." said Lorne. Albus stopped and looked at Lorne expectantly.

"First off, congratulations on winning that ten pin bowling tournament. I know you're feeling a lot of stress over this Voldie- wart character, but that Potter kid will pull through in the end, try to go easy on him though. As for the immediate problem. . . I know a great private eye that'll be able to help you."

Lorne reached into his jacket pocket and pull out a stack of business cards. After shuffling through the stack he extracted one very plain business card with an unidentifiable picture above the name. Albus looked at the card. "Angel Investigations, we help the helpless" followed by a phone number and address. Albus looked up at Lorne for confirmation that this card was all he needed, but found that Lorne had already moved off to welcome a group of people dressed in quality suits. Deciding it wasn't worth the effort to ask anything else of Lorne, Albus exited the club. Once outside, Albus buttoned his traveling cloak and apparated to the address on the business card.

Albus appeared in the lobby of a slightly run down building that was largely paneled in wood. A door with a frosted glass window to his left read "Angel Investigations", without further ado Albus opened the door and walked in. The business had a somewhat desperate feeling to it, as though it need a few well paying cases, if the stains on the carpet and gashes in the wall to his right were any indication. A young woman with long brunette hair was asleep on the couch in front of him, looking rather ill. The headmaster was saved from the guilt of waking her by the arrival of a young man.

Albus started when he heard a throat clearing. A young man with the most intense dark eyes Albus had ever seen had crept into the room without Albus noticing. Quickly composing himself, Albus smiled at the man.

"Good evening. I was referred here by a most enigmatic person named Lorne who believed I could benefit from your services." greeted Albus. The man's face which had previously been completely passive lightened slightly with interest. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a snort from the couch as the young woman awakened.

"Did I hear that right?" She asked tiredly. "Someone actually wants to hire us?"

"You heard correctly my dear." Albus said kindly. The woman's entire demeanor changed and she all but leapt off the couch.

"Can I get you some coffee? Tea? Angel, why don't you take him into your office and get the basics of the case while I rustle up some hospitality." After giving the man, Angel, a very significant look and jerking her head towards Albus, she began rummaging frantically in a cabinet near the front desk. Albus asked for tea, and then turned back to the man who had the faintest smile on his face.

"Shall we step into my office?" The man asked. Albus nodded and followed the man into a dark office lit only by a few lamps. Albus noted with interest that all of the windows were covered by thick layers of newspapers. After seating himself, Albus threw caution to the wind and explained his problem in detail.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry and I am in desperate need of a Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. One with knowledge on demons would be wonderful, but at this point I'm willing to settle for any teacher." explained Albus.

"Why would you prefer knowledge of demons?" Angel asked, curious not about the existence of wizards, only the need for demon information.

"That requires a little back story. The wizarding world is plagued by a dark wizard. . ."

"Voldemort." Finished Angel, taking Albus by great surprise.

"You know of our world?" asked Albus.

"I've run into wizards before." said Angel, neglecting to mention that half of the wizards he'd encountered had died by his fangs. Albus nodded, slightly perturbed by Angel eerie habit of not blinking when maintaining eye contact.

"Since Voldemort's setback thirteen years ago he has been regaining power with the help of his Death Eaters. While he has not appeared in person I have no doubt he will soon. He has begun to ally himself with the demon population of Britain as well. Demon attacks have risen exponentially in number in the last month. The students need to learn how to defend themselves and others from demonic attacks." said Albus. Angel's intense eye contact finally broke as he stared at his desk in deep thought. The brief silence was broken as Cordelia entered with Albus' tea, handing it over in a bright yellow mug and smiling the largest smile Albus had ever seen. Cordelia settled herself near the desk in an extra chair and watched Angel expectantly. He was so deep in thought and so still he didn't even appear to be breathing. After a moment it became obvious he wasn't breathing. Albus narrowed his eyes. Dark office, covered windows, not blinking or breathing. . . Calmly setting his tea on the desk, Albus pulled out his wand.

"Revelo Demonia!"

Angel shot out of his chair as his features twisted and fangs grew. Cordelia shrieked at the sudden movement. Albus expected her to flee in terror from the thing that Angel, what an ironic name, had become. Exactly the opposite occurred.

"Angel! Are you all right?" When Angel didn't answer, only leveled a gaze at Albus, Cordelia rounded on Albus in a surprisingly volatile manner.

"What did you do to him!" She yelled.

"He is a vampire." Albus said.

"Yeah, I know. How did you make him vamp out and when are you going to stop it?" Cordelia asked icily. Taken completely aback, Albus lifted the revealing spell and Angel shifted back to his human face with a sigh of relief, as though he didn't enjoy his true face.

"You do not fear him? Albus asked.

"No." Cordelia replied in a snotty voice. "He's got a soul, and he doesn't eat people anymore, he saves them."

"A soul? Anymore? How is that possible?" Albus queried.

"Gypsies." Answered Angel in a sotto voice. "I fed off the wrong clan favorite, and they were. . . displeased. As punishment they restored my soul, so I could live forever with the guilt of 150 years of murdering. The Romani had their revenge against Angelus."

For the first time in his life, Albus was speechless. The vampire Angelus. . . good. It took him nearly a minute to find the right words to say.

"Revelo Humanis!"

A silvery glow formed around Angel, confirming the existence of a soul. Angel merely stared at Albus, waiting for him to come to his own conclusions.

"My apologies Angel. Cordelia, I have never seen an instance such as this, though that does not excuse my behavior." Albus said sincerely.

"It's forgotten." Said Angel.

After a few seconds of silence, Albus opened his mouth to resume the task at hand when he was interrupted by a crisp British voice from outside the office.

"Where is that 'Goo Gone' material? I can't seem to get the innards off of my fingernails." Asked Wesley as he strode into the office without looking up. Noting the lack of response he finally looked up only to turn a bright red color as he saw they had a client.

"Wesley, this is Albus Dumbledore, our new client." said Angel, trying to get Wesley past his embarrassment. Albus nodded politely at Wesley, who was looking oddly surprised.

"Albus Dumbledore? The headmaster of Hogwarts?" At Albus' confused nod Wesley continued.

"What a pleasure to meet you! I'm Wesley Wyndam-Price. The Watcher headquarters were rife with stories of the wizarding world; I've always wanted to meet you. I'd shake your hand, but as to the state of the fingernails I think I'll decline." Wesley gushed. Albus looked delighted.

"A watcher then? Remarkable. How did you end up working with a vampire and this enigmatic young woman?" Albus asked.

"It's a bit of a long story, the short version is that we were giving aid to a vampire slayer living north of Los Angeles in a little town situated directly on top of a hellmouth. After averting a bit of an apocalypse we drifted away from the hellmouth and met up some time later in the city, where we decided to pool our efforts and talents into fighting evil." said Wesley.

Albus took a moment to absorb this. A vampire helping a vampire slayer? Even for a vampire with a human soul, that is unbelievable. And what of the young woman? She seems out of place.

"You all fight evil together?" Albus asked, trying to get some clarification.

"Cordelia is a seer. The Powers that Be send her visions of people in need. We interpret the visions using Angel's experience and my Watcher knowledge, and then Angel and sometimes I go out to vanquish whatever evil has surfaced, often in a decidedly violent manner. A seer, a scholar, and a warrior. We make a fairly effective team." Wesley stated proudly.

Albus thought privately that Wesley had quite a lot to be proud of. A watcher, vampire and young seer, all working together peacefully. Albus would have thought it impossible prior to meeting the employees of Angel investigations.

A sudden thought struck Albus. A watcher. A watcher was an expert on demons. A vampire with what must be centuries of combat skills. A seer, with. . . well, Professor Jameson was always commenting how hard it was to stay updated on muggle studies, perhaps this young lady wouldn't mind assisting. He made up his mind. Opening his mouth to speak, Albus was amused to discover that in the time he'd been thinking, Wesley and Cordelia had broken out into an argument and had resorted to calling each other childish names such as 'Gel Brain' and 'Tea Breath'. Albus cleared his throat. At the noise both Wesley and Cordelia ceased all noise and whipped their heads towards him.

"I think I've found my professors." He said with a smile. Wesley's jaw dropped, Cordelia's eyebrows disappeared into her hair, Angel's frown deepened slightly.

"You want. . . us to teach your Defense Against the Dark Arts class? We can't do magic. How can we teach at a school for magic?" asked Angel.

"Demons are very resistant of magic in general. This is why a Slayer was needed, magic couldn't keep the demonic forces in check, physical means had to be utilized. There exist few spells that can work well against demons, and those that do can only reveal demonic presence, not eradicate it." Albus explained.

Angel stared at Albus for a minute more, not bothering to blink, then turned his gaze to Cordelia and Wesley.

"Let's go for it!" Cordelia exclaimed.

"It would be a once in a lifetime opportunity, Angel. We should take it." Said Wesley.

Angel considered them for a moment more.

"We'll do it."

"Excellent! Thank you so much!" Albus said happily. "The school will provide lodging in the castle. . . "

"There's a castle?" Cordelia interrupted.

"Yes, Hogwarts is a large castle with extensive grounds in northern Scotland. The school is over a thousand years old and is near an all wizarding village called Hogsmeade. I could provide a few books that would give you background on the wizarding world and Hogwarts if you wish." Albus said.

"We would appreciate that." Angel said as Wesley's eyes lit up with a scholars excitement.

"As I was saying, the school will provide you with a salary as well as lodging and meals in the castle, along with any school supplies that you may need for your classes. Do you need anything personally?"

"Does the castle have electricity?" Cordelia asked.

"The castle is infused with magic, any muggle devices will not function inside the Hogwarts grounds even if there was an electrical feed. However, any objects you require probably have a magical counterpart or can be charmed to work inside Hogwarts." Albus said.

"I would need a room with covered windows and. . . a steady supply of pigs blood." Angel said uncomfortably.

"We have a few unused underground dungeons that could be transfigured into quite comfortable living quarters. The pig's blood will not be a problem. A sufficient amount can be ordered as a potions ingredient at the beginning of the year and charmed to stay fresh. Will that be satisfactory for you?" Asked Albus with a concerned air.

"That is much more than I expected, thank you." Angel said, looking slightly ashamed.

Albus took another few seconds to marvel at Angel. A vampire with a soul. . . it defied imagination.

"What types of supplies do you think would be appropriate? Some items will be added to the supply lists sent out at the beginning of the year and some the school will provide." asked Albus. After thinking for a moment Angel spoke up.

"It depends on what exactly you want us to teach." said Angel.

"You're quite right. I thought Wesley could teach general demon lore and history, how to recognize demons, and any spells that might work against demons, what precious few there are. Angel could teach physical defense and combat, with and without weapons. Cordelia could assist our Muggle Studies professor as he is in drastic need of up to date resources. Does that sound acceptable?" said Albus.

"Very Acceptable." Said Wesley happily.

"In that case the school should provide practice weapons. A sword, dagger, throwing knives, and axe, along with protective gear for every student should be sufficient for in class work only. The students should be responsible for a set of workout clothes that are easy to move around in and they should all be able to make their own wooden stake before they come to school." said Angel.

"A wooden stake for vampires, is that correct?" Albus asked with a slight smile. Angel nodded.

"All bases should be covered."

Albus was impressed by the vampire's lack of fear or discomfort at the topic.

"Callan's Demon Compendium would be a perfect textbook for my topics. It is used at the Watcher's Academy and covers demon history and all known species. There are also a few Wiccan spell ingredients that should be added. The resident Sunnydale Wicca has found a few spells most effective against demons in general." said Wesley.

"I had heard a rumor that Wicca magic was effective in areas where Inherent magic failed. Fascinating. Can this Wicca magic be used by muggles?" asked Albus.

"Yes, and to great effect. I've used many spells with a positive outcome." Said Wesley proudly.

"I'll add them to the curriculum then. Cordelia? Do you have any requests?" Albus politely queried.

"I think some magazines would be good. Oh! Newspapers, from all over the world would be great too. Cosmo, vanity fair, GQ, Entertainment Weekly, Newsweek, National Geographic. . . maybe a few outdoor magazines, Reader's Digest. . . "seeing Albus' slightly overwhelmed look, she broke off. "I'll write them down for you, but they'll keep us totally up to date and give awesome insight to the kids."

"I'm sure that you have some loose ends to tie up in the way of lodging and packing, so why don't I arrange transportation for Thursday next week at three o'clock. Will that be enough time?" Albus asked.

The three newest Hogwarts professors glanced at each other.

"That'll be just right." Angel answered.

"Then I bid you farewell and look forward to seeing you in a week." said Albus, and then apparated away with a pop.

A/N: As this is my first fan fiction I would appreciate constructive criticism. I won't say no to glowing praise either. grins


	2. Hogwarts

Disclaimer: Angel, Harry, and the rest are not mine. I just play with them from time to time.

Clarification: This is a fourth year fic. I am intending to weave this around cannon instead of plowing through it and leaving destruction in my path. Hopefully that's how it'll turn out.

Chapter 2 - Hogwarts

When Dumbledore gave Remus the task of collecting the new Defense against the Dark Arts professors, he had not expected to apparate into an argument filled with words such as 'boogerbrain'. Nevertheless, here it was. Remus appeared behind a pile of luggage and immediately saw the two arguers, a pretty young woman with long dark hair and a young man with a British accent. The two took a full 15 seconds to wrap up the name calling, before they could politely address him. After firmly elbowing the man in the ribs, the woman introduced herself.

"Hi! Sorry about Beavis here, we were just having a mature discussion about testing. I'm Cordelia by the way. Cordelia Chase" she said as she stuck out her hand. Remus shook it happily.

"Remus Lupin, pleasure to meet you. And you sir. . . ?" Remus inquired politely.

"Wesley Wyndam-Price, pleasure to meet you. Are you a professor as well?" asked Wesley.

"No. I'm a friend of Dumbledore's, just doing him a favor. Are you all ready to go?" Remus asked.

"We're ready." A new voice spoke from behind Remus. Startled, Remus whirled, hand going for his wand before he could stop himself. The tall, pale man behind him had been the first person in years to sneak up behind Remus, his wolf hearing made him able to hear and smell people well before they got into scaring range. Remus had been told of Angel's vampirism by Dumbledore, but had been quite unprepared for Angel to sneak up behind him. Barely two seconds after Remus jumped Cordelia tore into Angel.

"Angel! What have we told you about sneaking up on people? It's rude. And creepy. Whistle or something when you come into a room." She scolded. Remus was shocked to see that the vampire actually looked a little abashed. He kept his face neutral and offered his hand to the vampire.

"Remus Lupin. Pleasure to meet you."

"Angel. Good to meet you."

"Shall we get going? I'll just gather up your luggage and we'll be off." Remus said. He took out his wand and transfigured the luggage into a pile of pebbles, which he stowed safely in his pocket. The three new professors goggled at the bit of magic.

"We'll be traveling by portkey, so-"

"What's a portkey?" Cordelia interrupted him.

"A portkey is an object charmed to take any people touching it to another location almost instantaneously. In this case, the headmaster's office at Hogwarts." Remus explained. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a quill.

"Just touch the quill with a finger and we'll go on my word." said Remus. The three professors each put a tentative finger on the feather.

"Ready?" They all nodded, "Three, two, one. . . " Remus felt the jerk behind his navel and was pulled into a hurricane of color and sound, the three professors right by his side.

The group appeared in the headmasters office, Angel and Remus managing to keep their feet while Wesley and Cordelia wobbled and hit the floor. After Cordelia and Wesley had been hoisted to their feet, the group finally took notice of Albus, who was sitting sedately behind his desk.

"Good evening professors. How was the trip?" He asked pleasantly. Cordelia snorted.

"What a marvelous method of travel! Wesley gushed, "Simply fantastic!"

Angel, as per usual, was silent.

"Remus, would you like to assist me in giving our new professors a tour?" asked Albus.

"Of course." Remus said. "I suppose that my many experiences as a student may prove useful in adding extra tour information."

"Precisely, though I do enjoy your company." Albus said.

"Well in that case, let's be off." said Remus cheerfully.

Remus led the way down the spiral staircase and waited at the bottom for Cordelia and Wesley to stop goggling at the gargoyle as it jumped back to guard the entrance. Albus stopped and tapped his wand on the gargoyles nose.

"The gargoyle will recognize you three specifically. It is usually temper mental when admitting non-magic people. The password is Jujubee, by the way.

"Jujubee?" Cordelia wondered aloud.

"I find it simpler to use sweets as passwords. If one forgets, it is only a matter of time before you stumble upon the word again." Albus explained as he began to walk down the corridor.

"Aside from the tour of the castle and the specifics of your subjects, the three of you need to know of a very important event being held at Hogwarts this year. This event is the Triwizard tournament. Judging from your bewildered expressions I will need to explain. It is a tradition amongst the three wizarding schools of Beaubatons, Durmstrang and Hogwarts to hold a tournament. One student from each school is chosen to be a champion, and the champions compete. This is a very important event in the wizarding world that has not been held for a long time."

"Why hasn't it been held?" Wesley asked.

"There were no safety precautions for the champions. Students were killed. We would not dare to try to hold the tournament while it could endanger the life of any child, thus it has been a very long time coming." Albus explained.

The group was silent for a moment as they walked along the corridor. Silent until Cordelia realized the portraits were moving.

"Angel! That portrait just winked at me!" She exclaimed.

"The portraits in the castle are magical, really everything in the castle is, but the portraits have a bit of the essence of their subject instilled in them. They often move, speak, or go visit one another. You get used to it." Remus said.

"That is fascinating!" Wesley cried as they descended a staircase, not noticing Remus and Albus when they jumped a particular step. "Magic instilled in the very waAAAHH!" His monologue was cut off abruptly as his leg sunk deeply into a stone step. Showing activity for the first time since his arrival, Angel, moving almost too fast for the others to see, grabbed Wesley, yanked him bodily out of the step, and set him down carefully on the riser below it. After being certain Cordelia was safely past the fake step he turned a questioning glare on the two wizards. Slightly perturbed, Remus explained.

"That was just a trick step. Nothing really dangerous, you usually just need a bit of help to pull your leg out and you're fine." As Angel's glare didn't lessen, Albus took over the explanation.

"The castle is simply like that. There are doors that look like walls, walking suits of armor, ghosts, portraits that talk, and trick steps. We all live peacefully with the idiosyncrasies of the castle." Albus said carefully. Angel's glare finally retracted. Remus sighed in relief. The rest of the tour went smoothly, the two wizards being careful to point out well known hazards in advance, Peeves being one of them. As the group walked the corridors of the castle Wesley and Cordelia became more comfortable and chattered more and more. More than once the two of them had an argument that would not have been out of place in a first year dorm. Remus enjoyed listening to the two; they reminded him of better days, not to mention he nearly choked swallowing a laugh when Cordelia referred to Wesley as an 'ass-pansy'.

The tour culminated in the Great Hall where the trio, even Angel who had been laconic through the entire tour, was suitably impressed by the grand room and the enchanted ceiling. After a moment of studying the ceiling and the starlight Angel had a rather serious question.

"Does the enchantment ceiling let through real sunlight?" Angel asked in a manner that was supposed to be light, but as Angel hadn't mastered light conversation yet, it came out as vaguely predatory. The wolf in Remus bristled momentarily under a too-intense-for-casual-conversation stare. Before either he or Albus could answer Angel, Cordelia interrupted.

"Angel." She said, drawing his attention from Remus. "Stop looking at the wizards like you're going to eat them." Angel's expression softened into one of minor embarrassment. Remus was relieved, that is, until Cordelia rounded on him.

"Well? Will the sunny ceiling fry him? I don't want him to sit down for toast and end up. . . er. . . toast." She said.

"The ceiling doesn't let through any natural light, it is merely enchanted to reproduce the effect, have no fear." Albus supplied.

"This is simply marvelous." Wesley said as he wandered into the middle of the great hall to get a better view of the ceiling and promptly bumped into the Hufflepuff table. Cordelia managed to make a noise that conveyed her feelings of mockery towards Wesley without utilizing any language Remus was familiar with.

"Albus," Angel said. "We're here because Cordelia had a vision of you needing our help. We'll stay here to teach as long as we can, but if we're called home to another vision, that has to come first. We can't ignore visions. Is there some way we could travel back to Los Angeles in the case of a vision?" Albus hadn't known about the importance of these visions, he wanted to kick himself for not considering the possibility, but he needed these professors. It was Remus who came to his rescue.

"Have you heard of the Floo Network yet?" Asked Remus. "It's a method of travel for wizards using common fireplaces that are connected into a massive network. What if we connected it to your offices in Los Angeles? You would have safe and fast access to your home in case of a vision. Since you are Hogwarts' newest professors I'm sure there will be no trouble with the connection. The Floo Network doesn't even need a wizard to make it function; all the enchantments are done before it is used."

"I have a bit of an aversion to flames, but that sounds ideal. The only problem is that our offices don't have a fire place." Angel commented.

"That is easily fixed." Albus said with a smile. Wesley, who had been listening with the most intense expression of academic curiosity Remus had ever seen since teaching Hermione Granger, seemed about to explode with questions.

"I can explain the mechanics that I know of to you later Mr. Wyndam-Price." Remus offered.

"It's Wesley, and that would be wonderful if you can spare the time." Wesley said in a voice that was just short of glee.

"Well now that that's settled, exactly how much is this promised salary?" Cordelia asked with no preamble, ignoring Wesley's embarrassed flush or Angel's strained expression. Remus had the distinct feeling that tact was not one of her strong points.

"I do not know the exact conversion from Galleons, our main currency, to the United States dollar, but I believe it is near 40,000 dollars a year for a starting salary." Albus said with an amused smile. Cordelia thought about this, seemed to do a mental calculation in her head, then nodded her agreement. Angel was impressed. Any number that could keep Cordelia pleased was. . . amazing and unheard of really.

"When you add in the benefits and room and board, transportation, and a lack of commute, plus the salary, this is a very good deal." She explained, revealing a depth to her mathematical prowess that Remus hadn't quite expected.

"Well, we should get the three of you settled. Cordelia, Wesley, if you would come with me I will show you to your rooms. Remus? Would you take on the task of transfiguring one of the unused dungeons for Angel?" Albus asked.

"Of course professor." Remus replied.

"Thank you. If you would stop by my office before you set out tonight, I have something I would like to ask you." Albus said.

"I'll see you then." Remus said. After separating whose luggage was what pebble, the group split. Remus could hear Cordelia pestering Albus about decorations for nearly half a minute after they had set off. Angel and Remus walked in silence for a few moments when Angel suddenly spoke.

"Did Albus have you come with me so the two dark creatures could bond or so you could figure out if I have any ulterior motives?"

Remus jumped slightly, having become used to Angel's laconic tendencies. He considered Angel's statement.

"Probably a little of both, though he didn't discuss it with me before hand. When did Albus tell you about my lycanthropy?" Remus asked.

"He didn't." Angel replied casually. "I knew a werewolf back in Sunnydale. He smelled like dog and silver, so do you."

Remus was a little shocked by this bit of information.

"Silver?" Remus asked. Angel shrugged. They continued walking in silence towards the dungeons. After passing a potions classroom that was emitting a variety of faint smells that suggested a massive nerve induced potions accident during last term, they arrived at a door made of dark wood with iron hinges. Remus pushed the door open to reveal a large dusty room with a few broken desks in one corner and a door in the far wall. Angel kept the nonplussed expression on his face with an effort.

"You do realize that I'm going to fix this up?" Remus asked with a grin. Angel's expression became considerably less forced as Remus fired off several heavy duty cleaning spells and a vanishing spell for the desks. After the dust and cobwebs disappeared the room looked much better.

"Okay, first step." Remus said quietly and waved his wand. A black coffin with intricate silver designs appeared in front of them. Angel turned to give the wizard a telling off, but the irate torrent he was about to unleash died when he saw the wolfish smile on Remus' face, and he grinned instead.

"You're not a bad guy, Remus. . . but can we get rid of the coffin?"

"Now that I got you to make an expression, sure." Remus answered and got to work.

Two hours later Remus gave the password to the gargoyle and climbed the staircase to the headmaster's office. Albus was sitting behind his desk looking more drained than Remus had ever seen him, his hands clasping a cup of tea, Chamomile by the smell. Remus sat down in front of the desk.

"I take it that fixing up Miss Chases' and Mr. Wyndam-Price's rooms was a little more taxing than you had guessed." Remus said wryly. Albus smiled tiredly at him.

"Perceptive as ever. Yes. Miss Chase had very specific ideas as to how her rooms were to be decorated. She finally settled for me transfiguring the shapes of her furnishings and then charming them to change to whatever color she chose. It was tiring." Albus explained. "I trust Angel was a little less. . . exact with his rooms?"

"Yes. He's not very picky for a 240 plus year old person. Though he saw right through your maneuvering." Remus said. "Albus lifted his eyebrows in a silent request for an explanation.

"His exact words were 'Did Albus have you come with me so the two dark creatures could bond or so you could figure out if I have any ulterior motives?'. After discussing lesson plans and students to watch for an hour and a half I think I can safely say he does not have ulterior motives." Remus said. Albus considered this for a moment, smiled, and started to open his mouth.

"And before you can ask, I'm not sure if we bonded, but I got him to crack a smile, so I think I made it out of the category of 'possible enemy'." Remus finished.

"That is good news, Remus." Albus said and took another sip of tea.

Severus Snape hurried through the halls of Hogwarts towards his personal haven of the dungeons. His progress was hindered by a slight limp which was the souvenir of a somewhat disastrous potions trip to India. He found the ingredient, the pollen of a rare flower, but paid a price by falling down an unfortunately steep slope and wrenching his knee. He was hoping that by hurrying to the dungeons he could avoid Madam Pomfrey, whose penchant for acting like a mother hen in the summer holidays with no students to care for was well known. Any staff with an ailment quickly became scarce. Severus had no intention of breaking that tradition. He sighed in relief as he reached his quarters. _I'm safe. _He thought.

Twenty minutes later, after a pain killing potion and a change of clothes, Severus headed into his office to see what mail had piled up in his absence. There was a copy of Potions and Poisons, a few Hogwarts notices (new forbidden items that Filch had discovered, a flyer about the Tri-wizard Tournament and a note informing him of a staff meeting that evening), and his potion ingredients inventory list. He quickly scanned the list to make sure the school was stocked with the necessary materials for the year and noticed a very unusual discrepancy. Apparently he had been supplied with a very large amount of pig's blood in Ever-fresh casks. He had definitely not asked for pig's blood. In fact, Severus couldn't think of a spell that required such amounts of blood that would be appropriate for any year curriculum, or any potion that wouldn't be considered dark. _Best get this taken care of now._ He thought. He folded the list and set out for the headmaster's office. He had gone scarcely twenty yards down the corridor when a door to one of the unused dungeons opened ahead of him.

_What?_ _That room's been unused for years._ Severus quickly sidestepped into one of the shadowy archways that tended to dominate the dungeon areas. A young man dressed in dark muggle clothing stepped out of the door and closed it quietly behind him. Severus was struck by how the only noise was the creaking of the door, the man's boots had made no sound. Severus made to make a big intimidating entrance to ascertain why this man was invading his dungeons, but was stopped by the man addressing him. Without turning around.

"Are you going to stay in the corner all day?" The man asked quietly with an American accent, still not turning around. Attempting to maintain his dignity Severus strode into the corridor, moving fast enough to make his cloak flare in a manner threatening enough to send first years running.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Severus demanded. After just long enough a pause to infuriate Severus, the man turned around. He had intense dark eyes, a large brow, and the most ridiculous hair Severus had ever seen, well, second to Potter's bird's nest. "Well, you Neanderthal? What are you doing here?" Severus demanded again, hoping to break the man's cool exterior. The man smirked at him. _He smirked at me. I haven't been smirked at since Sirius Black was free. _

"My name is Angel." He said and extended his hand. "I'm teaching physical defense." After Angel's hand had been extended for a few seconds, Severus gingerly shook it, while inwardly raging at his inability to intimidate this upstart 'professor'. It took him a moment to calm long enough to answer.

"I am Severus Snape. The potions master." He said as stiffly as possible.

"Good to meet you, Professor." Angel said and sauntered off down the corridor. Severus was in a small amount of shock, never having been dismissed so completely before. After a moment he composed himself and resumed his walk up to the headmaster's office, stopping every so often to scold a portrait for being too loud.

Albus Dumbledore was not surprised to see Severus Snape barging into his office with a look that would have sent a basilisk into shock on his face.

"Albus, tell me that the Yankee Neanderthal that has invaded my dungeons is an intruder that I am allowed to hex and not the new defense professor." Severus demanded.

"Alas, Severus, I cannot. He is actually one of two defense professors I have employed this year. With the demon attacks increasing in number, I thought it best to employ those with experience in the study and extermination of demons." Albus explained. "Now, what did Angel do to make you so incensed?"

"He was entirely too disrespectful." Severus said mulishly, fully aware that his argument had no substance. "His name is Angel?"

"Yes, and before you ask, I shall explain everything after the staff meeting to you and the other heads of house. Now, I will assume that Angel is not the only topic you wish to discuss." Albus said. With effort, Severus composed himself and brought out his potion ingredient list.

"Albus, there is a huge amount of pig's blood on this list. Unless you are planning to change the curriculum drastically, this should not be here." Severus explained.

"That is one more topic that shall have to remain till after the staff meeting. I will see you then." Albus said with a hint of finality. Severus nodded curtly and left, thinking of the staff meeting with a bit more enthusiasm than previous years.

Angel leaned against the wall opposite the staff lounge, ignoring the questioning looks he was receiving from various Hogwarts staff members. He had spent the afternoon wandering the halls of the castle trying to establish his sense of direction. He was fairly confident that he could reach all of the main areas of the castle, such as the great hall and the hospital wing, but it would take awhile before he would be able to navigate easily. At the moment he was waiting for Cordelia and Wesley, who had sent a note that they would meet him outside of the lounge before the staff meeting. _Where are they? The meeting's going to start. . . ah, here they come._ He heard Cordelia a full thirty seconds before she came into view around a corner. She was chattering excitedly about her furniture of all things.

"It's soooooo comfy! And the color change thing is the coolest accessorizing I've ever seen. All I have to do is touch it and think about the color and poof! there it is! Even the wood furniture does it. I have all mahogany right now." Cordelia exclaimed. Before she could continue Wesley cut her off.

"Well, while you were playing interior decorator I explored the castle. The library! It's amazing! It's even bigger than the collection at the watcher headqarters! The librarian is so helpful, we hit it off immediately." Wesley said in ecstatic voice.

"Only you could be transported to a magic castle and spend all your time with the books." Cordelia retorted.

"Well at least I'm learning something about our new home instead of playing coloring book with my rooms." Wesley shot back. Before he and Cordelia could sink into another grade school argument, Angel cleared his throat and stepped into the middle of the corridor. Which made both Wesley and Cordelia jump.

"Angel, we've talked about this. No sneaking up on people." Cordelia scolded after her feet hit the floor again.

"I did not sneak; I was in plain sight the entire time." Angel responded mildly. "Shall we go into the meeting?" He asked, heading off a patented Cordelia rant. Without waiting for an answer he opened the staff lounge door and heading inside.

The lounge was large and furnished in worn comfortable looking chairs and couches with low tables spread throughout. There was a large fire place on one side of the room and a large closet full of cloaks on the other side. Portraits of past professors covered the walls. As the three entered the room, feeling very conspicuous in their 'muggle' clothing, the conversations in the knots of wizards and witches grew quieter for a moment as the new professors were studied. Angel, Cordelia and Wesley moved towards the back of the lounge and had just sat down when the door opened again, this time letting in the headmaster and the self proclaimed potions master. Angel watched with amusement as Snape slunk to the farthest corner in the room without speaking to anyone, then turned his attention to Albus who had positioned himself in the front of the room.

"Welcome back, my friends, to what promises to be a most exciting year." Albus said with a twinkle in his eye.

Author's note: I hereby give my sincere thanks to those kind souls who reviewed and inflated my ego enough to keep writing, especially to those reviewers who pointed out a few gaping plot holes that I have tried to fix. Please keep up the feedback; it works wonders on the creative part of the brain, and it makes me feel smug.

Thanks to:

Allen Pitt, kpstar25, vaguely amused, vuzznut, Synch14, Mystiksnake, J, Starhopper, VanillaKat, eris86, Melissa, KelleyTheSelfToastablePopTart, Silvi Henna, and Taters-Kay


	3. A few conversations and Morty

Angel listened to Albus' welcoming speech with half an ear and proceeded to scope the rest of the professors. Most of the professors were exhibiting various signs of boredom and not really paying attention to the speech. One, a tiny little wizard who had mixed blood by the smell of it, possibly goblin, was absently levitating a quill that had been left on the table in front of him and was unknowingly dripping ink onto the cloak of the witch next to him. Looking around the room he noticed the rather sour man he had met in the dungeons, the self proclaimed potions master. The aforementioned potions master was sitting in the farthest corner of the room and appeared to be attempting invisibility. He looked distinctly uncomfortable in the presence of so many people. Angel was slightly amused. A professor that doesn't like people? He must be a wonderful teacher. Angel's attention was pulled away from the pouty professor as Albus suddenly switched gears in his speech. 

"As you all know, the Triwizard Tournament is to be held at Hogwarts this year. I feel that a successful tournament would help to bridge the growing gap in the magical community, therefore I must ask that every member of this staff be willing to give support if needed." Albus said. He continued in that vein for a few moments, impressing the need to work towards unity in the magical community and how it must begin with the youth. Angel listened closely. Judging by Albus' statements, all was not well with the wizarding community. His musing was interrupted when Albus stopped speaking and looked straight at him.

"And may I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Assistant Muggle Studies professors. Mr. Wesley Wyndam-Price, Miss. Cordelia Chase, and Mr. Angel. They have graciously agreed to teach on short notice, and bring expertise on all things demonic, which you all know is sorely needed at this time." Albus gestured for the three new professors to stand. They did so, Cordelia with much more enthusiasm and a much more sincere smile than either of the men. There was a scattering of applause before Albus continued.

"One last note on our welcomed new professors: they are not wizards." Albus said. A hush followed the statement, then frantic whispering. Albus held up his hand and the noise stopped almost immediately.

"As most of you know, our attempts to rein in the demon population with magic have been unsuccessful. It is time to try a new path, and I believe that these three remarkable people may give us the path we need." Albus paused to let this sink in.

"With that I wish you all a wonderful new year. Would the Heads of House and our new professors please follow me to my office?" He asked, then smiled and moved towards the door. The room was stock silent for a moment then seemed to reawaken as the requested professors hurried towards the door and the rest dissolved into clusters of gossip.

The walk to the headmaster's office was silent and just long enough to become uncomfortable. Albus didn't seem to notice the tension as he hummed 'Do your ears hang low' for the duration of the walk. Finally they reached the office and had barely settled into the hideously upholstered chairs that populated the office before Severus let out a question that had obviously been building since Albus' announcement.

"Albus, what possessed you to hire muggles?" Severus asked.

"Pixies." Albus answered promptly. The professors stared at him as Albus laughed quietly at the expressions on their faces.

"I often find that all one has to do to gain a vast amount of amusement is to answer any question with the word 'pixies'. To truly answer your question Severus, it is because I feel they are the best for the job. They run a detective agency in Los Angeles that specializes in cases of demonic nature. The skills and knowledge they have in dealing with demons will prove invaluable to us." Albus answered. The answer seemed to placate Severus enough so he could sit down, so Albus took that as a sign to continue.

"I think proper introductions are in order before we go any further." Dumbledore said, then gestured to a stern looking witch.

"Angel, Cordelia, Wesley, this is our esteemed Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor house, and Transfiguration professor." Minerva inclined her head and smiled.

"This is Filius Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw house, and Charms professor." The tiny wizard gave a wave and a grin.

"This is Pomona Sprout, Head of Hufflepuff house, and Herbology professor." The witch with the fly away hair smiled broadly at them.

"And this is Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin house, and Potions professor." Severus inclined his head, though the motion was so slight it may have been twitch in his neck.

"Slytherin? That sounds like a snake or something. Gross." Cordelia commented suddenly. Wesley's cheeks reddened and he glared at Cordelia, completely missing the amused and slightly triumphant look on Minerva's face and the laugh disguised as a cough that slipped out of Filius.

"Pleasure to meet you all." Angel said as though Cordelia hadn't said anything. "I'm Angel, physical defense professor, this is Cordelia Chase, assistant Muggle Studies professor, and Wesley Wyndam-Price, demonic history and defense professor."

"Thank you Angel. Now, something you must know. Angel is a vampire." Albus said, then sat back and waited for the reactions. Filius squeaked, Minerva's lips thinned till there was nothing but a white line, Pomona leaned ever so slightly back in her chair. It was Severus' reaction that took them all by surprise.

"I knew it!" Severus exclaimed, drawing stares from everyone in the room. "The huge amount of blood on the potions list, the lack of noise he makes when walking, and the fact that he hasn't blinked since we sat down. It was obvious."

There was silence in the room as the other Heads of House alternately assimilated this information and stared at Severus. Severus allowed a sense of superiority and smugness to fill him. They were supposed to be professors and couldn't even recognize a vampire. A vampire named Angel. What kind of name is that for a vampire anyway? Only Angelus managed to pull that off… A horrible thought crept into Severus' mind. He looked towards the vampire, who was squirming slightly under the scrutiny of the professors, the resemblance was exact. Oh Merlin, what has Dumbledore done?

"Albus?" Severus began. Albus looked up.

"Do you know that you hired 'The Scourge of Europe" to be your physical defense professor?" Severus asked in an even tone, allowing his hand to slip slowly towards his wand. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Pomona silently mouthing "the Scourge of Europe?"

"I do indeed, Severus." Albus answered calmly. "I know you all doubt my reasoning at the moment, this is what convinced me." With that he pulled out his wand and muttered a spell. The professors watched as a slivery glow formed around Angel, proving the existence of a soul.

"Angel has committed himself to fight against evil, even going so far as to assist a vampire slayer in California. I feel he will be invaluable to the student's education." Albus said with the slightest hint of steel in his voice. One by one, the professors nodded, Severus last of all, looking thoughtful. Filius suddenly blurted out a question.

"You two are humans, and you work with him?" Filius asked, sounding disbelieving.

Wesley and Cordelia exchanged a look.

"Yeah, okay, he's a vampire. Big deal. He doesn't eat people anymore, and the only annoying habits that he has are that he broods too much and doesn't wash out his blood mugs." Cordelia answered.

"I do it once and you never forgive me." Angel muttered.

"I must concur with Cordelia. Angel has been an exemplary employer and I can think of few more committed to eradicating evil than Angel." Wesley added.

Minerva looked hard at Angel, who returned her gaze. After a moment, she looked towards Albus.

"Alright Albus, I'll trust you on this." She agreed, then smiled. "After all, Lupin was a fabulous addition to the staff, our luck might hold for another year." Severus got a slightly disgusted expression on his face for a moment, but managed to wipe it off before it froze that way.

"Then considered yourselves informed. I trust you will all do your best to make our new professors welcome." Albus said "Have a good evening." With that the meeting ended and the Heads of House began to file out and immediately began gossiping in not so discrete tones. Severus hung back.

"Is there something you wanted to discuss, Severus?" Albus asked, sounding as though he was expecting an argument.

"Not with you Albus, I am resigned to the fact that your logic, while defying mortal comprehension, is usually sound. I'm sure our new professors will be up to scratch." Severus answered, though not without a smirk as he added the last comment. Severus ignored the irritated expressions on Wesley's and Cordelia's faces.

"I wanted to speak with Angelus, actually." Severus said, drawing a sharp look from Angel. "Vampire lore is a hobby of mine, and I am very curious as to how one of the most notorious vampires to ever live ended up fighting for the light." Angel stared at Severus for a moment before giving his answer.

"Pixies."

Albus' eyes began twinkling madly as Severus' expression blanched.

"He made a joke." Cordelia whispered to Wesley in awe as Wesley grinned widely. Angel maintained his serious expression for a moment longer, while Severus wiped the shocked look off his face.

"Why do you want to know?" Angel asked. Severus squirmed for a moment.

"I want to know what made it worth it to aid people that hate your kind." Severus' blunt answer rang in the room. Angel considered the answer, which was surprisingly without venom.

"Alright, but why don't we speak later, when we don't have an audience." Angel offered. Severus nodded, and without further ado left the headmasters office.

Cordelia waited until Severus was out of sight before making a comment.

"You're actually volunteering to spend more time with the walking grease ball?" She asked with disgust.

Angel just gave her a look. She raised her hands in mock defeat. Albus smiled.

A few days later…

Cordelia and Wesley were sitting in the Great hall for breakfast when the mail arrived. Both were too tired from a vision and subsequent trip to Los Angeles to notice the mail and the expressions of the other professors. Until a voice from two feet above their heads said quietly "Yeh, bastards."

Wesley and Cordelia looked up in alarm at the giant of a man sitting next to them. He was reading a paper featuring a moving picture of a glowing skull with a snake coming out of the mouth floating above a vast campground. "Death Eaters attack World Cup!" the headline proclaimed. Seeing the emotions on the faces of the other professors, Wesley decided to speak before Cordelia could employ her usual tact.

"What are Death Eaters?" Wesley asked gently.

"Followers of You-Know-Who, a dark wizard who is intent on 'cleansing' the wizarding world of those of inferior blood, anyone less than pureblood. You-Know-Who was killed 13 years ago when a killing curse rebounded on a child, Harry Potter. Apparently his followers aren't willing to give up on the cause." Poppy Pomfrey said quietly. The mood at the breakfast table became tense and uncomfortable. Wesley and Cordelia politely excused themselves, but before they could leave Minerva called out to them.

"You do remember the notice about the TriWizard tournament?" She asked, arching one eyebrow. Wesley and Cordelia nodded. "The preparations will begin today. Wizards and witches will be arriving to begin construction of the structures for the tasks. I suggest that you make yourselves scarce." Wesley and Cordelia nodded again and headed out of the hall. Cordelia managed to wait till she and Wesley were two hallways and a staircase away before she burst.

"What was that about?" She asked loudly.

"I read a bit about these 'Death Eaters' in one of the books Remus sent over. They're similar to the Klu Klux Klan in America. They have a particular hatred for any persons that are not of a pure blooded wizarding family. They… ah… use rather violent methods to convey their beliefs." Wesley explained.

"Rather violent methods?" Cordelia repeated in a questioning tone.

"Murder, torture, destruction. If it weren't proven that these Death Easters were human I would have been convinced it was one of the more vicious demon clans. They used to rally around a dark wizard by the name of Lord Voldemort. This is apparently the first time since he was killed that they've made such an appearance." Wesley elaborated. Cordelia was silent for a moment as she pondered something.

"Voldemort? He couldn't think of a better name? What is it with evil and dumb names?" She wondered. Wesley was flabbergasted.

"I just told you about the worst group of criminals in the magical world and all you can think about is the name?" He asked incredulously.

"Being evil is no excuse not to have style, or class." She countered. "Mayor Wilkins, Barney the demon, Richard… the list goes on. Maybe it's like that weird math thing."

"Weird math thing?" Wesley asked, quickly losing her train of thought.

"Yeah, the inverse thing. It's like the dumber your name is, quicker you get slayed by the good guys." Cordelia reasoned.

Wesley decided that then would be a good time to redirect the conversation.

"I still don't understand this change of heart." Severus said in an annoyed tone.

Angel sighed. He was beginning to regret agreeing to speak to the potions master.

"It wasn't a change of heart really, I got my soul back." Angel started to explain.

"But you had obviously accepted what you were, much more so than most vampires, if the stories about garden parties were anywhere near accurate." Severus interrupted. Angel suddenly understood what the problem was.

"You do know the difference between a vampire and a vampire demon, right?" Angel asked.

"Yes of cour… What?" Severus cut off, confused.

"It's a subtle difference. Vampires are one thing, but a vampire demon is just what it sounds, a demonic possession where a blood feeding demon animates the newly killed dead body and takes on the characteristics of the deceased person. Vampires are still ensouled, vampire demons are not. On the surface they seem exactly the same even with the turning process, though Vampires have much more restraint than their demon counterparts when it comes to feeding." Angel explained.

Severus looked as though an anvil had been dropped on his foot. He took a moment to collect himself.

"You are an ensouled vampire demon then?" He asked. Angel sighed in relief. Finally! He gets it!

"Yes. I am a vampire demon that shares a body with the original soul. The return of my soul was the change of heart as you put it. I had no conscience for 150 years courtesy of being nothing more than a vessel for a demon, then got my soul back, the soul took control and it's been a battle of wills ever since." Angel said.

"You still didn't answer my question, why do you do it?" Severus asked intensely.

"Redemption. I can't undo the past, but I can make the future a little better." Angel answered.

Severus stared at his feet while he took in this comment. After a moment he raised his head and nodded at Angel.

"Thank you." Severus said, and left the lounge. Angel sat back and sighed one final time. Talking to Severus had been much more challenging than he would have expected. It seemed the man could not understand the concept of something evil turning good.

Severus strode down the corridor, being careful to avoid the dozens of wizards running around Hogwarts in tournament preparations. His conversation with the vampire had not been what he expected. He had frankly been suspicious of Angelus, despite what Albus had said.

And he was curious.

The vampire was reputed to have been one of the most vicious vampires ever to walk the earth, and he'd just spent an hour in his presence without being ripped apart. Severus had been interested in vampire lore since before he came to Hogwarts, and to meet such a…legend. He's a legend in the vampire world, and he's fighting for good. Severus was so caught up in his thoughts he forgot to scowl at the young tournament worker who had just graduated Hogwarts last year until he was nearly 10 feet past the man, then he threw a glare over his shoulder. He wasn't really as unpleasant as he acted; it was just the easiest route to instant respect from students. That and it was unbelievably amusing to watch students scatter when he walked into a room.

He reached his quarters in a few minutes and went straight to his bookshelves. After a moments perusal he found a volume he hadn't read in ages. He settled into one of the armchairs by the fireplace, the title of the book, Blood Brothers: My life amongst the Vampires, was visible for a moment before he opened the book and began reading.

Angel slowly made his way back to his quarters in the dungeons. He had to take a multitude of alternate routes to avoid tournament workers and stray patches of sunlight streaming in through the windows. When he finally made it back to his room he was very ready for a large mug of warm red liquid. He had just taken the first sip when Cordelia barged into his rooms without warning. Wesley followed more meekly, tapping the door frame with his knuckles before slipping into the room and closing the door.

"Hi, Cordelia, come on in." Angel said as she flopped down in a chair across from him. She ignored his greeting in favor of nearly yelling a question at him.

"Are we supposed to fight Morty?" She asked.

Angel blinked. Wesley let out an exasperated sigh.

"Morty?" Angel asked, looking at Wesley for interpretation.

"I gave her the details about Voldemort and since then she's been referring to him as Morty." Wesley said in a highly annoyed voice.

"Cordelia, we're supposed to help Dumbledore specifically. Otherwise I think the vision would have shown Voldemort. Even though he's reported to be dead I have my doubts, too much Sunnydale influence maybe, but even so, it looks like the powers want us to teach kids how to slay demons, not … Morty." Angel said in a calming voice.

"Great." Cordelia mumbled. "It's like the Scooby gang has gone public."

"At least you get the easy job; you get to talk about nothing but culture." Wesley said. "I think you'll be a good professor Cordelia." Cordelia brightened a little.

"You're sure we're only supposed to teach?" She asked in a doubtful tone.

"I'm sure." Angel said reassuringly. Cordelia looked extremely relieved. Then in one of her truly spectacular topic changes began rattling off an extremely detailed anecdote of her adventure trying to find the Great Hall that morning. Angel settled in for a wait happily. He'd be able to drink most of his blood before he'd be expected to make any response.

At 11 am the next morning three sharp raps on the door woke Angel from his rather short slumber. He stumbled out of bed, barely having the cognizance to throw his robe on over his boxers before he opened the door.

Minerva McGonagall prided herself on remembering details. Therefore she would never admit to anyone that she had forgotten that vampires were nocturnal and had apparently woken this one from a deep slumber. Angel squinted at her through sleep fuzzed eyes, appearing to not care an iota that he was clothed in only his undergarments and a robe. Minerva gathered her wits at the remarkable pace she was famed for.

"Mr. Angel, Albus sent me to tell you that the weapons you requested have arrived and that if you would like to look them over now would be the time." Minerva said in an even tone. "I'll wait a moment if you would like a guide." Angel had woken up enough at this point to understand speech.

"Thank you; I'll just be a moment." He said, and gently closed the door.

After barely ten minutes Angel appeared again, this time fully dressed.

"Follow me Mr. Angel." Minerva said, and started off down the corridor. Angel followed.

"Please just call me Angel, the Mr. sounds odd." Angel requested.

"Very well Angel." Minerva acquiesced. "What do you think of the castle?"

"I like it. Los Angeles is fine, but I've always been partial to older architecture." Angel said with a small smile. "I will admit that that suit of armor on the fourth floor caught me off guard."

Minerva allowed herself to relax and smile a bit. She was familiar with that particular suit of armor. Though it was never proven, she suspected that the famed Marauders of Hogwarts were the ones who charmed it to be inappropriately grabby. The charm had never been reversed, and students only needed one lesson to learn to walk on the far side of that corridor.

There was a moment of silence while Angel negotiated around a sunbeam.

"So Professor, any students I should be warned of ahead of time?"

"Call me Minerva please. You should watch out for the Weasley twins. They're one of the worst sets of pranksters I've ever encountered. Draco Malfoy, he and his cronies will give you a lot of disrespect if you let them get away with it once. The rest I'm sure you could handle." She informed him. "Is the sun going to be a serious problem for you?"

Angel had to skirt another beam while he answered.

"I could just wear a cloak for inside and use windowless corridors. That would take care of most of the problems. As long as the classroom I'm using doesn't have windows I'll be fine." He said.

At that moment they reached a door not far from where Wesley's defense classroom was located. Minerva opened the door and was given a display of vampiric speed as Angel leapt out of the way of the cheerful sunbeams that were streaming through the door courtesy of the high windows that filled the walls of the room. She looked at Angel, standing safely in the shadows to the left of the door, and got out her wand.

"I'll be just a few moments." She said, and entered the classroom.

A few transfiguration spells later, the glass in the windows was replaced by gray stone matching the castle walls. Minerva lit the torches lining the walls and opened the door again.

"It's safe." She called. Angel appeared from behind the door and entered the room. After a moment's scrutiny, he nodded.

"This will do fine." He said approvingly, then turned his attention to the racks of weapons lined up on the far side of the room. She watched as he hefted each item and experimentally tried a few forms with each weapon. He paused on one especially bulky broadsword and seemed about to reject it, but put it back in the pile at the last moment. He replaced the weapons on the racks and surveyed the room one last time.

"I'm set." He said.

"Excellent." Minerva said. "It's nearly lunchtime. Would you like to join everyone in the Great Hall? I'm sure we could get something appropriate served to you."

Angel looked about to refuse, but the inviting expression on Minerva's face made him change his mind.

The lunch was enjoyable. Angel fed discreetly while participating in the animated conversations between the professors. Filius had taken a particular liking to Cordelia. Her slang phrases and lack of tact making him laugh hysterically every few minutes. Wesley was having a passionate discussion about library organization with Madam Pince, who appeared to found a new best friend. Angel was currently entertaining Hagrid with stories of the more exotic demon species he'd come across. An hour passed without Angel realizing it and the professors began to disperse. Angel realized with a shock that he had actually enjoyed himself in a social setting. Maybe this teaching thing won't be so bad. He thought on his way back to his quarters.

The next few days passed quickly and suddenly it was time for the year to begin.


	4. Clueless, hexes, and sabres

A/N: I'm sure you all noticed that my last chapter had no acknowledgments of any kind. That was because I had to practically turn somersaults to get it posted and completely forgot all the little things like thanking reviewers who take their valuable time to tell me how I'm doing. To summarize… My reviewers and readers, how I love thee! I love hearing your opinions on the story and appreciate it so much. I hope you're enjoying the story, and I'm sorry it takes me so long to update. My brain is a little fried. Proof of this was demonstrated the other night when I proclaimed to my roommate, "I will celebrate my Tuesdays even though I have a three hour Potions class." I meant to say Chemistry. My roommate thought it was hilarious.

Chapter Four – Professors

Wesley was heading to lunch on the day the students of Hogwarts would arrive when he suddenly realized he was being shadowed. Fearing an enemy, he ducked around a corner and into an archway as quietly as possible and pressed himself against the wall. After a few seconds he was rewarded by the sight of a frightening figure swathed in a heavy black hooded cloak. The figure made no sound as it glided down the hallway. Wesley's heart nearly stopped when it stopped directly in front of his shadowy archway. Wesley inched his hand towards the stake that he always had stuffed in his pocket as the figure stopped and slowly turned towards him. The hood completely concealed the person's face in shadow. Wesley readied himself for battle. And was startled senseless by Angel's voice.

"I take it the cloak is a little much?"

Angel watched in amusement as Wesley's face went from fear, to shock, to an extreme exasperation he'd only ever seen Watchers employ.

"You could have said something." Wesley spluttered, squinting at the dark area under the cloak's hood in an attempt to give Angel a healthy scowl. "I can't see your face at all in there."

"Filius thought it'd be a good idea after watching me try to get from the professors lounge to the Great Hall on a sunny day. He and Isolde Sinistra picked it up for me when they went to get their last school supplies. Filius put a couple of charms on it too, like the shadowy hood. I can walk through the halls without fear." Angel explained.

"Did…" Wesley began, unsure how to ask, "Did he put a charm on it to be frightening to anyone in the near vicinity?"

Angel seemed to be taken aback by the revelation, if his shoulders stiffening could be taken as adequate proof. Wesley couldn't discern anything other than the faintest outline of Angel's face from the shadows of the cloak. Angel seemed to be on the verge of a brooding session with this knowledge.

"Though it should prove an effective pre-emptive strike for any trouble makers you may have." Wesley piped up, trying to head off any depressive moods of the vampiric variety. Angel's cloaked form was silent for a moment and Wesley thought he was in for a brood, when Angel suddenly chuckled. Evilly.

Wesley smiled to himself, and continued on to the Great Hall. He had no doubt that Angel would be a well discussed topic amongst the students. He reached the Great Hall a few paces before Angel and entered, then watched as all the professors, except for Filius and Isolde, at the head table stopped their conversations and considered the shadowy figure in the doorway. The silence was broken when Filius squeaked.

"Does the new cloak work well enough, Angel?"

Everyone at the head table relaxed at the comment as Wesley enjoyed at small laugh at their expense. Out of direct sunlight Angel pushed the hood back and moved up to the table to enjoy a midday goblet of blood. The rest of the staff had been informed that he had a rare disease that made him unable to stand any sunlight. He also made sure to eat while around the rest of the staff, even if he was enjoying a goblet of pig's blood under illusion to look like red wine at the same time. He and Wesley took a seat next to Cordelia who was contentedly consuming a large quantity of fish and chips. As soon as Angel was settled she leaned over and whispered to him.

"Working the vamp angle a little heavy, aren't you?" she said around a mouthful of halibut.

"No." Angel said in a slightly affronted tone. "It's charmed to keep sunlight off me." I can't help it if it makes me look a little menacing."

"A little menacing?" Wesley snorted. "I was afraid for my life when you came up behind me in the hallway."

Angel was about to protest when Cordelia piped up.

"Angel, a little menacing is when you run out of coffee. The cloak will probably make kids wet themselves."

Angel looked fully affronted.

qpqpqp

Later that evening Cordelia, Wesley, and Angel sat at the head table with the entire teaching staff awaiting the students. Angel was wearing his cloak with the hood down to get into the habit of wearing it and to present the image to the students. Isolde, the astronomy professor, had commented that the first image a professor presents to students is the one they always associate with the professor. According to Filius and Minerva, this was why the student body at large often referred to Severus as "The greasy git". Angel was not especially surprised.

Either way he was not particularly pleased to be giving off such a distinctly vampiric fashion sense.

In between listening to Cordelia talk non stop and actually participating in a conversation with Filius, Angel watched students filter into the hall and seat themselves at one of four tables. He noticed that at the table to his far right was a little more subdued than the other three, as though the students weren't willing to fully let themselves go. It was odd to say the least.

It took another half hour of waiting before all the students were seated and Minerva brought the first years in. Angel had been briefed on the sorting process, but still found it completely fascinating that a _hat_ had such authority over the student body. After the last first year was sorted (Whitby, Kevin) Albus stood up and began to make a few start of term announcements. Angel listened with half an ear as he surveyed reactions from the students. The set of twins at the red… Griffin?...ah, Gryffindor table, looked like they might be trouble. _Well, not real trouble, maybe like Xander, doubled, and with half a brain._ The table to the far right in green was still having reserved reactions. _Maybe it's a trait of the house…_ Angel's thought were brought to a screeching halt at two distinct words.

"…new professors." Albus said. "Please welcome Professor Chase, assistant Muggle Studies professor." Cordelia gave a blinding smile and waved cheerfully. "Professor Wyndam-Price, Defense against the Dark Arts professor." Wesley raised a hand in a dignified fashion with a polite smile. "And Professor Angel, physical defense professor." Angel just gave a nod, and hoped Cordelia would wait until they left the table to scold him for being less than cheerful. Albus waited for the whispers of the students to die down before he continued.

"A note about our new professors, they are muggles." Albus paused again to let the significantly louder and more numerous whispers time to die down. "I'm sure those of you who keep up with the news are aware of the dramatic increase of demon attacks across Britain. These instructors are the most qualified to teach demonic defense and they will be treated with respect." Albus' voice gained the slightest bit of steel towards the end of the speech. The students became much more attentive and still, the hint of steel doing its job well.

"Now," Albus continued in a much more cheerful tone, "It is my pleasure to announce that Hogwarts will be hosting the TriWizard Tournament this academic year!"

The shocked and happy exclamations that filled the hall impressed upon Angel just how big a deal the tournament was. Even though he had been dodging members of the Ministry of Magic for the past week, the magnitude of the event hadn't struck him till then. He supposed it'd be the equivalent of the Superbowl being held at Sunnydale High.

Albus went on to make the rest of the start of term announcements which were fairly normal after the revelation of non magical professors at a magical school and the resurrection of an ancient and somewhat deadly tournament. Angel supposed that forbidden pranking products just didn't have the same flair after notices of that magnitude. The headmaster timed his speech just right, allowing the feast to begin exactly when the majority of the students simultaneously lost interest. Cordelia squealed with delight when the feast literally _materialized_ on the table in front of them. Cordelia immediately piled her plate full of rather scrumptious looking food. Wesley was a bit slower in loading his plate as he was busily reminiscing about his favorite dishes to Irma Pince, who was looking surprisingly approachable. A large wine goblet filled with pigs blood had appeared in front of Angel. He filled his plate as camouflage, and took care to actually eat, though he was glad his goblet kept refilling.

He spent the evening conversing with the other professors, acutely aware of all the stares directed at he, Wesley, and Cordelia, but ignoring them completely. He was also aware of the whispers and out and out bellows that come with them.

"…muggles! What can they…"

"…physical defense? What is…"

"…demon attacks are getting out of…"

Angel did his best to ignore the stares and eavesdrop as much as possible. By the end of the evening he determined that the three Los Angelenes would catch hell for being non-magical, that Cordelia would be fending off every male who saw her, and a disturbing number of girls thought he and Wesley were… attractive.

Soon the feast came to an end. Angel took the exit behind the staff table to avoid the crushes of students. Wesley and Cordelia followed, not especially anxious to deal with that many students so quickly. Angel bid the other two goodnight and strode off down the hallway, completely unaware that Wesley and Cordelia had noticed that he was turning corners a little sharper to make his cloak flare.

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Cordelia detested mornings. So of course she had the earliest class of the day. What was worse is that the nearest latte was in London. She managed to find a caffeinated tea, but it just wasn't the same as a triple shot. She was on her second cup by the time Wesley arrived. All too soon breakfast was over and Cordelia made her was to the muggle studies classroom, which she had gleefully decorated with posters of American movies a few days earlier. She had been talking to Alan Jameson, the muggle studies professor, for a few days and he had been very enthusiastic about a new curriculum and decorations. So enthusiastic in fact that Cordelia answered nearly a hundred questions in order to properly explain the cinematic complication that was 'Clueless'. They decided that they would split the classes. Alan would take the traditional curriculum and Cordelia would take the new culture aspect.

Cordelia chatted with Alan while students began to file in, eyeing the new decorations and her with curious expressions. Alan took a look at his pocket watch and called the class to attention.

"Welcome to fifth year muggle studies! We have and interesting term ahead of us. Please welcome Professor Cordelia Chase, who will be handling the culture portion of our new curriculum." Alan went on to explain the course syllabus. He went through the normal aspect of the fifth year syllabus, the turned the floor over to Cordelia.

"Hello everyone," She said with her brightest smile," I'm Cordelia Chase and I'm a muggle, which makes me way more qualified to teach the course than Professor Jameson here."

Alan had to work extremely hard to conceal his laugh.

"I'm going to handle the muggle culture in all of it's glory. But that has to wait for your next lesson, muggles 101!" Cordelia said with a flourish. She had purposely dressed extra normal today, and the 'strange' muggle clothes ensured the attention of the class. She felt a surge of triumph at the disappointed expressions from the news that she would not be teaching today.

After her self introduction she settled down and listened to the lecture, making sure to redirect any stares with a patented Cordelia glare.

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Wesley arrived at his classroom a half hour early. He was nervous yes, but this was _his_ territory. He was after all, Head boy at the Watcher Academy. The students would challenge his authority, he would claim it, and the class would continue. Wesley hoped he wouldn't have to resort to serious methods to retain his authority, but he was on his home turf, so to speak, they couldn't touch him.

Hi first class was a double session with Gryffindor and Slitherin 6th years. According to Hogwarts, a History, there was a constant rivalry between the houses. This would be an educational class.

Wesley sat at his desk and reviewed his lesson plan for the first class day as students began to trickle in. Gryffindors in red ties and Slytherins in green ties automatically shifted to either side of the room. Wesley had no intention to try and encourage the two houses to work together. Too much experience as a prefect and Head Boy had taught him that school rivalries are somewhat pointless to attempt to fix. He would settle for not exacerbating the problem.

The Slytherins were giving him extremely calculating looks, some rather hostile. Ah, this is where the challenge will come from

The clock on Wesley's desk struck 9 and he promptly strode to the front of the classroom and began.

"Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts. My name is Professor Wyndam-Price. We will be concentrating on Demonic history in this course. I'm afraid your wands will be of little use-"

"Because you're a useless mudblood." One of the Slytherins finished. The Gryffindor side of the room instantaneously became one giant glare.

"Thank you." Wesley said coldly to the Slytherin. "He is correct, rude phrasing aside. I have no inherent magical ability, but-"

"So you're essentially helpless against us." Sneered the Slytherin. Wesley opened his mouth to respond, and then changed verbal direction as the Slytherin brought his wand up and began to cast a hex to the dismayed cries of his housemates.

"Actume ta cuitem!" Wesley incanted just as the hex left the Slytherin's wand. A translucent green shield formed around him. The hex dissipated completely as it hit the shield, and the shield dropped as soon as the color of the hex faded. As most of the class' jaws dropped, Wesley glared down the Slytherin, who was looking a little paler than Angel.

"As I was saying, you wands will be of little use to you since demons are almost completely immune to magic. You will be learning demonic history and the ways to exterminate demons. There are some mystical methods that are effective against demons, but they are entirely different than the inherent magic that wizards utilize and are difficult to perform without large amounts of preparation. You will instead be learning physical means of extermination." Wesley explained. "Now, take out your quills." Wesley moved to the blackboard as the class frantically dragged quills out of their bags and began to write out notes on the board.

"Oh by the way," He said calmly over his shoulder, "50 points from Slytherin for attacking a professor."

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Angel had been working hard to get up at a reasonable hour for the last week. As it was, he was just now managing to get up in time for lunch. He quickly showered, dressed, and cloaked himself, then began the trek from the dungeons to the Great Hall. He left his quarters a few minutes before classes let out, which meant that he was in the hallway housing the charms classroom. About half the class had emptied into the corridor when he swept through. The students went silent as he passed, looking as though they were trying to decide if they should hex him or not. Angel smirked under his hood and continued on to the Great Hall. By the time the students made it to the Great Hall Angel was happily drinking pig's blood at the head table.

The students eyed him warily as they sat at their respective tables.

After lunch Angel waited till all students had left the hall before he headed up to his classroom. He wanted to see how the students acted without the presence of a teacher. His careful timing had him walking through the door exactly when class was to start. The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors were standing as far as possible from each other. All of the students were eyeing the racks of weapons with expressions varying from trepidation to glee.

He glided through the door and closed it quietly. No one noticed him until he cleared his throat. Loudly. The class spun around towards the noise and many reached for wands at the sight of the cloaked figure.

"Hello." Angel said, shedding his cloak. The class relaxed and the few wands that were out disappeared.

"This is Physical Defense. Since Britain is currently being hit with demon attacks left and right, the headmaster thinks it would be a good idea to teach you to properly defend yourselves without magic." Angel explained.

"Why aren't we learning magic?" Asked a Gryffindor.

"Because he's a muggle." Pansy Parkinson snorted.

"So are you." Angel responded, throwing the whole class into utter confusion.

"To a demon that is." Angel clarified.

The confusion didn't go away.

"Demons are almost completely immune to magic. The only use that your wands may have against a demon is if you sharpened them into a stake. There isn't any point in trying to learn magic to defeat a demon; you may as well just throw the wand at them. Does everyone understand?"

Various noises of assent filled the classroom.

"Then let's get started." Angel said. "As you heard at the feast, my name is Angel. I, along with Professor Chase and Professor Wyndam-Price work in Los Angeles as private detectives with a specialty in cases of a demonic nature. We slay demons everyday, even Professor Chase," he added hastily, seeing skeptical expressions on some faces, "and we do it with these weapons. I have confidence that all of you can learn enough to defend yourselves.

"Alright," Angel walked over to the rack of swords. "We'll take this one weapon at a time. Have any of you ever used a sword before?"

Two hands raised. One from the Slytherins, a haughty blonde boy, and one from the Gryffindors, a calm black haired boy.

"Have either of you had formal training?" The black haired boy shook his head.

"I've had fencing lessons since I was ten." The blonde declared.

Angel looked him over and was extremely disconcerted to find that he looked exactly like Spike would have at age fourteen.

"Do you think you could kill a demon with your skills?" Angel asked.

"With five years of lessons? Of course." The blonde scoffed. Angel felt himself fill with the type of irritation that usually only Spike could create.

Then given your experience would you like to show the class how it's done? Angel tempted. As he expected, Spike Jr. ate it right up.

"Of course Professor." He said smugly. Though he tried to do it discretely, Angel saw the sneer he threw at the Gryffindors. If the purpose was to enrage them it was doing a spectacular job.

Spike Jr. made his way to the front of the room and chose the lightest and narrowest of the one handed broadswords. While he swung it a few times to test the weight and balance, and to show off, Angel observed his form. _French style, wrist is too loose, sabre. Acceptable for competitive sabre._ Angel decided. Angel walked to a shelf containing a collection of close range weapons and selected a set of tiger claws. After settling his grips he walked to the front of the room where Spike Jr. saluted him in a ridiculously flamboyant manner before realizing that Angel had no sword.

"Why are you using those?" Spike Jr. asked.

"To simulate a demon's claws. It's extremely rare that I find a demon with a foil." Angel answered, and then lowered himself into a ready position. Spike Jr. imitated with a classic saber en guarde. Angel nodded.

Spike Jr. immediately lunged forward, bringing the sword down to strike his right shoulder. Careful to keep his movements human, Angel dodged to the left and swatted the sword away with the tiger claws. Spike Jr. let the sword absorb the blow and brought around in a tight circle that added to the power of the blow towards Angel's left arm. Angel dodged again, but didn't try to parry the blow. Spike Jr. jumped back and quickly made another forward lunge aimed at Angel's midsection, and promptly had to scramble back as Angel slashed at his head with the claws. Angle hopped backwards to avoid a slightly wild sabre slap and slashed at the attacking blade, knocking it sideways before Spike Jr. could swing it around in what appeared to be a signature move. Angel swatted the sword back in the opposite direction before Spike Jr. could regain control then slashed upwards, catching the blade under the hilt and ripping it from Spike Jr.'s grasp. The sword arced over Spike Jr's head and clattered onto the stones behind him as Angel stepped forward in one quick move to have the tiger claws at his throat in a perfect position to open the jugular.

The class was dead silent for a moment, and then the Gryffindors and most of the Slytherins broke into applause. Spike Jr. glared as best he could without moving his head at the Gryffindors.

Angel pulled back the claws and Spike Jr. relaxed.

"Okay," He said, grabbing the class's attention from the dozens of conversations that had spontaneously spawned out of the applause. "Why didn't he win?"

The class seemed taken aback by the question.

"Because you're better at sword fighting?" A Slytherin guessed.

"No, remember, I wasn't using a sword, so any sabre skills I possess wouldn't have been much help." Angel said, noticing Spike Jr.'s mildly surprised expression at the admission that Angel had known what style he was using.

The class remained silent. Angel saw a bushy haired Gryffindor girl biting her lip in frustration. He decided to take pity on them.

"He played by the rules."

The class looked positively shocked at this. Angel figured the reaction must have something to do with the kid's character rather than his suspenseful lecturing skills.

"What is your name?" Angel asked Spike Jr.

"Draco Malfoy." Spike Jr. answered with a bit of a sneer.

"Mr. Malfoy is a very good fencer. He lost because he was fencing according to the rather strict rules that govern the sport, rather than a style designed for killing. Fencing is more about reflexes and the ability to score a 'touch' on ones opponent, than power and killing blows. Demons will not recognize right-of-way or a good touch from a bad touch; they will attempt to rip out their prey's throat as quickly as possible." Angel explained.

The class looked shocked at this. Malfoy's sneer had lessoned somewhat at the pronouncement that he was 'very good', but was still looking vaguely troubled.

"Professor," The bushy haired girl asked, "Why doesn't the speed of the fencing style blows count? I mean, if you could dart in and quickly make a…er… vital blow, like hitting the heart, wouldn't that be just as effective as a powerful blow?"

"Very good point Miss…?"

"Granger, Sir, Hermione Granger."

"Miss Granger makes an excellent point." Angel said addressing the class. "But how do you know that the demon you're fighting has a heart in the same place a human does?"

Granger looked absolutely gobsmacked.

"Demon species are often completely different anatomy wise than humans. If you don't know where the vital organs are, the best chance you have at defending yourself is to utilize standard crippling blows that give you the best chance of retreating without the demon following."

Angel allowed the class to assimilate this new and admittedly disturbing information.

"Mr. Malfoy, thank you for helping me with the demonstration, 10 points to Slytherin. Miss Granger, excellent observation, 5 points to Gryffindor. Now, I'm sure you're all ready to start playing with the swords, so let's get going."

Angel quickly handed out swords to students, trying to match weight and balance of the swords to the students. They spent the rest of the class period going through basic broadsword forms. Angel had to switch around a few swords that were ill suited for the students using them, but overall the class took to the form work very well. The large sword that he had almost thrown out for being to cumbersome was suited remarkably well to a tall red headed Gryffindor, even if he was a little too enthusiastic about some of the movements.

The class period passed smoothly. Listening to the excited chattering of the students as they exited the classroom, he thought he just might have done alright.


	5. Moody, Cocoa Puffs, and Visions

A/N- Everyone, I apologize. I know I've disobeyed every reviewer that's asked me to update soon. I blame SOURCE, all the pokey things that exist in Baja California, finals, Yellowstone, moving into my castle, more finals, and while I'm at it, my evil closet door. I have no idea when the next chapter will come out, as my side plot for this became a whole 'nother story that has yet to be posted.

Fic related points:

Gopie commented that some of the character's voices sounded off, I have gone back and read over the fic and do agree. I shall be paying attention to that from now on. Forgive me if it takes awhile to get them right.

-J mentioned not being clear on Cordelia's teaching responsibility. From PoA we saw a bit of Hermione's muggle studies homework which included diagrams of muggles lifting heavy objects. My perception of the class is that they explain how muggles live without magic, not necessarily the modern culture. I imagine a major unit would be explaining how eckeltricity in the muggle world functions like magic in the wizarding world. They're both essentially energy that's manipulated to our purposes, except that wizards have a much easier way of doing so. Cordelia's job is to explain culture. The importance of television for example, the movie industry, magic in muggle culture, integration of technology into modern culture such as the computer and the instant message. I feel the wizarding community probably wouldn't be aware, or at least, not very concerned with these nuances.

And you should all thank MysticDragonfly for reviewing and getting me to get off my ass and write another chapter.

Chapter Five- Moody, Coco Puffs, and Visions

A week and a half of classes passed peacefully. Angel later kicked himself for becoming complacent and thinking it would actually last. He had a track record of at least one problem a week since he met Buffy. It was like clockwork.

The clock abruptly started again when he attempted to enter the Great Hall via the door behind the staff table. A man who was standing at the door like a guard suddenly shifted to stand in front of Angel with a resounding thump.

"Who are you?" The man barked. Angel took a split second to feel shocked at the sheer volume of scarring on the man's face before collecting himself.

"Angel, the Physical Defense professor." He answered quickly. "Who are you?" Part of him desperately wanted to mess with the man's head, but decided to watch for another opportunity, lest he end up with a limb missing.

"Name's Alastor Moody. Why are you hiding under that hood professor?" Moody asked suspiciously.

"Xeroderma Pigmentosum." Angel answered, smirking under his hood. Moody looked bewildered for approximately a second and a half before the suspicion began to creep back onto his face. Rather than be subjected to what appeared to be an overzealous security guards rampaging vigilance, Angel opted to explain.

"It's a rare disease that makes the victim essentially allergic to sunlight. I would prefer not to lose all the skin on my face." Angel explained. Moody stared at him for a moment, pulled what looked like a top out of his pocket, then nodded.

"Go on in then." Moody stepped aside and offered no explanation for why he had accosted Angel. Angel quickly headed into the hall.

Judging from the vaguely disgruntled expressions on some of the staff's faces Angel deducted that he wasn't the only one that had hit a pothole on the way to breakfast. He wasted no time in asking Albus about the security scar outside the door.

"Ah, my apologies for not warning you ahead of time. I asked Alastor to provide additional security for the Triwizard Tournament. He is a retired Auror and one of the best. I felt it would be beneficial for everyone's safety if he were to lend his exceptional skills to the tournament's security. I expect he was a little, ah, vigilant?" Albus explained. The deepening scowls on half of the staffs faces gave him all the answer he needed.

Curiosity satisfied, Angel ate a small portion of eggs while enjoying pig's blood charmed to look like pumpkin juice. Next to him Cordelia was chattering happily about her breakfast to Filius.

Cordelia's breakfast was a fiasco in itself. Angel had only been mildly aware of her addiction to Coco Puffs, but it made itself obvious two days into the school year when Cordelia began badgering everyone who would listen about the wonders of the cereal while simultaneously wondering where she could acquire some. This morning she had finally procured some. The bowl the coco puffs came in was about the size of a mixing bowl. The Hogwarts cooks must be very perceptive as they had estimated Cordelia's daily coco puff intake and given her a bowl to suit her needs.

After extolling the virtues of the cereal to both Filius and Minerva (only one was listening) she plunged her spoon into the bowl and raised it to her lips…

Only to have every one of the 17 puffs on the spoon sprout 8 hairy spider legs and skitter on to her hand and up her arm.

"WAAAAAAAAAAA-"

Angel jumped in his chair as Cordelia began caterwauling. A quick glance showed what appeared to be her breakfast skittering all over her torso with scores more crawling out of the bowl.

Angel hurried to try and get them off her, but for every one he managed to brush off, six more managed to jump on her from the hoards climbing out of the bowl.

"-AAAAAAAAA-"

Filius was attempting to banish the coco puffs to the amusement of the entire student body, but his banishing charms would only knock away one coco spider at a time. Snape had taken out his wand and was staring at the spectacle.

"Well!?" Angel practically roared.

"-AAAAAAA-" "_Bakkaia!_"

"Well, what?" Snape asked calmly.

"-AAAAAAAAAAAA-" "_Bakkaia! Bakkaia! Bakkaia!_"

"Are you going to help?" Angel asked through gritted teeth.

"-AAAAAAAA-"

Snape made a show of putting his wand away.

"-AAAAAAAAAAA-" "_Bakkaia!"_

"And miss the entertainment? I think not."

Angel narrowly restrained himself from cutting the man's heart out with a spoon. He turned his attention back to Cordelia just as Sinistra stood up and incanted "_Finite Incantatem!_" at Cordelia's bowl. All of the coco spiders lost their legs and became innocent bits of cereal once again. Cordelia's screams finally tapered off. She dropped in her chair and stared wide eyed at the once full bowl, completely ignorant of the coco powder and milk tracks all over her jeans and sweater.

It was then that Angel became fully aware of the roars of laughter coming from the entire student body. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two people give each other a subtle high five at the Gryffindor table. His lesson plans for the next few days suddenly changed.

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Angel's mind was mostly occupied with ways to prove that the Weasley twins were the ones behind the cereal prank when the subjects of his thoughts were mentioned a ways down the hallway.

"I don't care if it was funny Ron, it's not right. They don't have any way to fight back." A bushy haired Gryffindor named Hermione Granger scolded.

"It's not like it personal!" Ron retorted sulkily.

"It doesn't matter!" She said angrily. "It's no better than Death Eaters terrorizing muggles! Didn't you see how scared she was?"

Ron's retort died on his tongue. The black haired boy walking next to them, _Potter, that's his name_, spoke up.

"She's right Ron, it's not okay." He said quietly. "We need to convince them not to do it again."

_Well, they have some sense, and I have proof. _Angel decided to interrupt.

"Who pulled that prank?" The three fourth years spun around to face the figure that had apparently materialized in the hallway.

"Well?" He asked, letting just a tiny bit of threat slip into his voice to add to the cloaked image. Granger stuttered for a moment when Potter answered for her.

"Fred and George Weasley, sir." He said clearly, obviously ready to face consequences of some sort.

"You're sure?" Angel asked, surprised at the direct answer.

"Yes sir. They were talking about it at breakfast." He said, still as though he was expecting something.

"Thank you." Angel turned to leave when Granger suddenly spoke.

"Aren't you going to take points?" And then was promptly elbowed by the younger Weasley.

Angel raised his eyebrow, then remembered they couldn't see his face under the cloak.

"Excellent idea." He said, smirking at the livid expression on the redhead's face. "50 points…" He trailed off, suddenly getting a very, very good idea. The trio was looking at him strangely now, wondering why the point deduction stopped mid sentence.

"I have a much better idea. I won't take any points off if you three don't tell anyone I know who did it."

Rather than risk anymore of Granger's suggestions, Potter hurriedly agreed. Angel swept away, cloak flaring impressively. As he turned the corner he heard the redhead ask, "What just happened?"

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Angel really had gotten the best of ideas. While he was irritated at the Gryffindor twins, he did appreciate how funny it was from every angle but Cordelia's. His real irritation was directed at Snape for refusing to help. It was obvious the man enjoyed being an ass, but Angel was pretty damn annoyed he had to do so at Cordelia's expense. Mid point deduction he realized just how well the cocoa puff prank had been planned and executed, and also how well that could translate to minor revenge. He normally didn't indulge in petty feuds, but Snape really needed to be taken down a peg or three, preferably without connecting the revenge to Angel. The Twins would be perfect for that. Plus, after a week of class, the swords had gotten remarkably dull. A thorough polishing would do them good.

Two days later, his class of sixth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws met again, and Angel was waiting for the smallest chance to assign detention. He missed his first opportunity due to a smart ass Ravenclaw that he was beginning to detest. Whyddon Finch was from an uppercrust pureblood family that seemed to make a hobby out of activism. For anything and everything. Angel's problem with Finch stemmed from his steady non-violence beliefs. Angel conceded that the kid had the right to believe whatever he wanted, but he wasn't going to learn anything different than what Angel wanted to teach, therefore he wished the kid would just shut up. Today the kid was waving around a wizarding journal of psychology.

"Professor! Professor! There's an article in here that details the cycle of violence I was talking about the other day. It explains in detail how allowing trusted officials to utilize violence for the so called good of the community will only perpetuate vio-"

Finch was abruptly cut off when a roar of laughter went up from the other side of the room. Angel looked over to see Lee Jordan sitting on the floor with a shocked expression and a tentacle growing out of his head. Judging by the smirks of triumph on the Twin's faces, they were responsible, unfortunately Angel couldn't prove it due to being distracted by Finch, who immediately started up his speech again.

"That will only perpetuate violence by showing it's an acceptable means of-"

"Please shut up." Angel cut him off. Finch goggled at him. Angel got the distinct impression that no one had ever dared to say that to _any_ member of his family.

"Whether you like it or not, I know that the only way to deal with the type of _things_ that will attack you in the dead of night is violence. I don't really care if you don't like it." Angel turned away and walked to the front of the classroom.

_I really shouldn't have said that. _

"Everyone, get your weapon and find a space." The class snapped out of its daze at hearing him tell off one of the most politically connected students in the school and hurried to the weapon racks, each pulling out a sword and hurrying to find open space in the room. Once every student was arranged so they wouldn't accidentally hit each other, Angel picked up his own weapon and began leading the class in katas. He remembered how disappointed the class had been the first day when he told them it would be weeks before they would be up to actually dueling with the blades. A week and a half of practice showed nice improvement among the majority of the class, in another two weeks they'd be ready to start bouting, if in a very rudimentary manner. A little ways through the class period he saw his chance. One of the twins suddenly faked a swing at his brother, who responded with a fake swing of his own, and then dropped the sword as Angel materialized next to him and grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip that effectively numbed his hand. Angel dropped the twin's hand and stepped back to be able to glare at both of them.

"You two. Detention. Tonight at Seven." Angel said with an undisguised growl that made the entire class go a few shades paler. "Anyone who puts their classmates in danger by messing around will not be tolerated." He announced. With a final glare he stalked back to the front of the room and continued leading the katas, occasionally stopping to correct someone's form.

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It was well known in Gryffindor house that the worse time to try and study in the common room was right after dinner. This was the prime time to hear the gossip of the day and the only time when almost the entire house was present. Today the big topic was the Weasley Twins scoring the first detention from the Physical Defense professor.

"Clearly the man was overreacting." Fred was saying.

"He just needs-"

"a little time-"

"to become acquainted-"

"With our comic-"

"genius!" They finished together.

"He'll be in our corner by tomorrow." George said confidently. A snort from the fireplace made heads turn.

"Right." Harry said skeptically. "He'll be completely blown away by a pair of sixth years, and have no defense to simultaneous speaking."

"Oh honorary little brother of ours, please keep your negative and completely unfounded doubts to yourself." Fred said with only the slightest edge to his voice. Harry smirked at him and went back to losing his game of chess with Ron.

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At 7:04pm on the dot Fred and George knocked on the door of Angel's office, which was disturbingly close to Snape's office in the dungeons. Hearing no answer, they just let themselves in. The office was fairly plain, if you didn't count the swords mounted on the wall or the bloodstained book on the desk. There was also a large fireplace and several shelves of books. Just as Fred headed towards the desk to do a little reconnaissance, the flames in the fireplace flared green and Professor Angel stepped out rather quickly. Fred managed to stop his quick gate towards the desk and sidle back towards the center of the room in a manner as though he hadn't just been about to rifle through the desk.

Hiding a smirk Angel sat down at his desk and watched as the twins seated themselves as prissily as possibly.

"So professor," The one on the right began.

"Why on earth-" The one on the left continued.

"Would you assign-"

"such a base thing-"

"as detention to-"

"pillars of virtue-"

"such as ourselves?" They finished together and looked at him expectantly as though this display would flabbergast him beyond reckoning.

Angel was fairly impressed at the verbal coordination, but not at the very visible attempt to waylay him.

"I know you pulled that prank on Cordelia." Angel said with no preamble.

The twins were good. The only outward sign was a distinct widening of the eyes on both twins.

"Why my dear sir, wherever did you hear-"

"Save it." Angel said, cutting him off. "I know it was you, and I don't respond well to attacks on people I like."

There it was, the flicker of uncertainty, he had them now.

"But instead of pissing off your whole house with losing points, I have an alternative, if you think you can handle it." Angel purposely put on a mocking tone at the end of the statement.

The twins conferred by glancing at each other for about six seconds.

"Alright," The one on the left said, "Name your terms."

Angel leaned back and smiled for the first time, not realizing it came out predatory instead of reassuring.

"First, you don't prank Wesley or Cordelia." He said seriously.

"Done." The twin on the left said, equally as seriously.

"Second, you pull three _good_ pranks on Snape."

"Done... what?" The twin on the right answered.

"Three good pranks. Not too embarrassing or too involved, just something that makes it obvious someone got the better of him."

"Let me get this right. You want us to prank another professor as punishment for pranking a professor?" The twin on the left asked.

"Yeah." Angel answered.

"You've hired yourself some pranksters."

The twins suddenly cracked utterly evil grins.

"Good." Angel said. "Now that we have that out of the way, the class swords need to be polished."

The grins faded, but not by much.

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The next day at breakfast very little changed other than Cordelia helping herself to a full English instead of her usual cereal.

And then Snape came in.

It was hard to notice at first, but gradually the entire hall was sneaking furtive looks at Snape. He wasn't doing anything in particular, it was his hair that was drawing attention. Instead of the stringy, greasy strands that the school had come to expect his hair was… nice. It looked soft and full and seemed to be affected by some type of mysterious wind that didn't exist in the rest of the hall. His hair was lightly flowing around his head in a manner only depicted on the cover of romance novels. Giggles were breaking out in a wave as the professor passed. It became clear why as soon as Snape passed Angel's end of the table. A voice was following Snape, softly whispering "Fabio…" every few seconds. Both Cordelia and Wesley broke into a giant fit of giggles, even Angel snorted into his blood. Snape gave them a slightly confused look, as though he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. _He can't hear the voice_, Angel realized, then snorted even harder. If this was what he could expect from the Weasley twins, it would be a great year.

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The happy mood from that morning lasted all day long. Snape slowly became aware of his hair, but never the voice. A Ravenclaw third year reported seeing him conjure a mirror in one of the dungeon hallways and admire his hair for nearly five minutes before moving on. The rumor mill was doing well that day. The peace was shattered at about 1am the next morning. Angel was still up and reading the bloodstained book (Cordelia had knocked a full mug of blood on it before they left LA) when his fireplace turned green and produced Albus' head.

"Angel would you please collect Mr. Wyndam-Price and Miss. Chase and come to my office? I'm afraid we have a situation." Albus requested.

"On my way." Angel said, already moving. Ten minutes later he and a slightly less alert Wesley and Cordelia were entering the headmaster's office. Already there were Albus, Minerva, and oddly, Harry Potter.

"Thank you for hurrying." Albus said. He was looking far graver than usual.

"I know you have all heard the general story behind Voldemort and Mr. Potter, however we have discovered a new complication.

Potter gave a sarcastic snort at the word complication. Angel noticed that the kid looked awful, like he hadn't slept in a week, not to mention that the jagged scar on his forehead looked raw, like he had just gotten it.

"I shall be frank. Mr. Potter has a link with Voldemort. It is unwilling and we are uncertain how it formed. In recent months Voldemort seems to have created a sort of body for himself. He is weak, but existing, this has pushed the link either out of dormancy or into existence. This link provides Mr. Potter access to Voldemort's stronger emotions, and occasionally gives him visions of Voldemort's actions." Albus explained.

Angel decided that the kid had a right to look like shit. He managed to keep his face passive, Cordelia paled a bit and a look of pity appeared on her face before she could control herself. Wesley's jaw clenched as faint hints of shock appeared in his expression. Angel noticed that Potter's expression was getting tighter and tighter, as though he desperately wanted to run, yell, or cry, possibly all at once.

"Tonight was one such occasion. Mr. Potter overheard a death eater meeting where Voldemort disclosed plans for raising a demon."

The three Angelinos responded fairly equally, dismay, resolve, and a strange sort of exasperation. Cordelia voiced it best.

"Why do the baddies always want to raise demons? Except for Doyle, they're all nasty. And slimy."

The comment managed to take the edge of the situation. Even Potter cracked the barest of smiles.

"Do we have any details of what demon he plans to raise?" Wesley asked, all Watcher now.

"Cruorvox." Potter said quietly. "He said he would raise the demon Cruorvox as a vessel. Then he started giving orders for things he needed to do it. It's going to happen towards the end of the year I think. When one of the death eaters said it would take him three months to get the…I don't remember… Voldemort didn't seem upset."

"Do you have any ideas?" Albus asked.

"A couple." Wesley replied honestly. "I'll need to get to my books. As soon as I know anything I'll let you know."

"Excellent." Albus said, "Now, it is late, and we all should get to bed and start fresh in the morning. Minerva, will you stay a moment?" She nodded. "Angel, would escort Mr. Potter back to his dormitory?" Angel nodded.

"Please call on us if you need anything Mr. Potter." Albus said, "Even if it seems trivial, we are happy to help."

Potter just nodded and slowly got out of his chair as if he was in pain. "Thank you sir, goodnight." He looked like he wanted to say more, but decided against it and headed for the door. Angel followed.

Angel waited until the Gargoyle had jumped back into place before asking a question that was nagging at him.

"Do these visions hurt?"

Potter flinched, then looked at him with suspicious eyes, "Why do you ask?"

"You're moving like you're in pain." Angel answered. Potter seemed like he wanted to deny it, but then seemed to wilt into himself as they walked.

"Not exactly, they…" Potter took a deep breath. Angel waited patiently. If the kid was going to talk, which Angel was surprised he was doing at all, he'd do so on his own time.

"It's when he curses someone." Potter said abruptly. "It. . . transfers to me somehow. The second meeting had a lot of new death eaters and they messed up. A lot."

The kid fell quiet. Angel kept walking and considered this information. He definitely felt pity for the kid, but figured that would the last thing that the kid wanted to see. They walked in silence for a minute or so.

"Aren't you going to start telling me it's going to be okay, or that you're so sorry?" Potter voice held a definite edge to it.

"Uh, no." Angel said slightly taken aback at the bitterness in the kid's tone. "I thought that'd be the last thing you wanted to hear."

"You're the only one that figured that out." Potter said in an even more bitter tone. They walked the rest of the way in silence, conversation definitely done for the night. After Potter disappeared through a hole in the wall behind a protective portrait, Angel returned to his quarters and pulled a few books off his shelves. They had time to prepare on this one, that was something.


	6. Politics, Hitchhikers, and eureka

**Chapter 6- Politics, hitchhikers, and eureka**

Authors note: I have no real excuse for not writing, other than not being inspired by the story. As the reviews have become slightly desperate, and my school has done a very nasty thing to me that makes me not want to do my homework, I'm back to working on it.

Despite existing for two and a half centuries and being well read and knowledgeable on many, many subjects, Angel had gradually forgotten the delicate politics of the living. He hadn't needed to do anything other than lurk and scare the shit out of people to get what he wanted for quite some time. Thus he was completely blindsided when he was hauled out of bed, literally, at 8:00 on Monday morning for a meeting by a frantic house elf. He had woken just enough to hear a high pitched voice call his name (Mr. Angel Vampire Sir!) before a small hand and a fair bit of magic had latched onto his left hand and yanked him bodily out of his nice warm bed (Lupin had added a heating charm apparently). The cold stone floor woke him up in a flash. He glared at the house elf.

"What?!" He growled. The house elf squeaked and retreated. Angel cursed in Gaelic and tried again.

"What do you need?" He asked, trying very hard to keep out of game face.

"Headmaster Dumbledore Sir needs you in his office! He has a mean wizard who doesn't like you yelling at him, sir!" The house elf explained.

Angel tried to compute this. As far as he knew, there weren't any wizards in England that he had personally offended this century. In any case, obviously he needed to see Albus.

"Tell the headmaster I'll be up in a few minutes." Angel said, hoisting himself up off the floor.

"Yes sir!" The house elf squeaked, and disappeared with a pop.

Angel quickly dressed and donned his cloak, taking the fastest route to the headmaster's office. He could hear the shouting all the way down at the gargoyle.

Albus Dumbledore was a patient man. He usually had perfect control over his emotions, which made the desire to hex the wizard in front of him most unusual. Harlow Finch had stormed into Albus' office in the middle of his morning tea, which was sitting on his desk getting increasingly cold. Finch hadn't given Albus a chance to talk since he had entered. As soon as Albus had discovered the problem he had discreetly sent a house elf for his physical defense professor.

"This is absolutely intolerable! What kind of establishment are you running headmaster? Is it a new educational decree to confine thinking? What is the matter with you, hiring this plebian that has the nerve to talk down to MY son?" Finch shouted, he opened his mouth to shout more, but was interrupted by a voice from the door.

"The plebian can speak for himself."

Finch whipped around to see a cloaked figure lurking in the door way, had he not been so incensed, he might have been a little cowed.

"Are you the professor who spoke so rudely to my son?" Harlow asked, putting as much disdain as he could into the question.

"That depends on who your son is." Angel said, guessing that this just might be Whyddon's father.

"My son is Whyddon Finch, I am Harlow Finch. I demand an explanation for your deplorable manners towards my son." Harlow said stiffly, while discretely trying to see under Angel's hood. Not discretely enough, however, Angel saw it and felt a little surge of glee that he was perturbing the idiot.

"Your son causes a constant disruption in my class." Angel said, trying to sound as professor-ish as possible.

"Expressing his opinion is hardly a disruption." Finch said, visibly puffing up.

"It is when he takes time away from the entire class and from my curriculum. His opinion isn't the problem, it's that he never shuts up." Angel's irritation finally bled through. He had no patience for people who thought they were more important than they were. "I teach a physical defense course, it's a lot harder when I have a running non-violence sermon."

Finch sneered at him. "Oh I see, his ideas don't agree with your brutish mindset, so you punish him in front of the class so that he'll be too embarrassed to speak! Do you hide behind your cloak in your class as well? Makes it easier to ignore reason does it?" Finch shot a glare at Albus for good measure.

Albus had been watching this 'conversation' like a tennis match, briefly relieved that he could finally have his tea. At the last comment he saw the smallest flash of yellow eyes from under the cloak. He flicked his wand to close the shutters in the office immediately, lest the vampire get too frustrated by not being able to face the rabid parent. Finch jumped at the sound of the shutters slamming and looked to Albus for explanation as torches sprang to life.

"Professor Angel suffers from a muggle disease that causes great pain when he is exposed to sunlight. I assure you he is not hiding." Dumbledore said firmly. Finch's expression wavered before looking back at Angel, who had thrown back the hood of the cloak and was wearing a thunderous expression that made Finch blanch.

"I don't give a damn if your son learns nothing from my class." Angel said slowly and threateningly. "I do give a damn if he stops someone else from learning something that could save their life."

Finch's mouth opened and closed a few times, before he finally got his voice back. Angel could smell uncertainty and a bit of fear off him. Good.

"There's still the matter of your disrespect-" He started.

"He disrespects me." Angel cut him off. "And I will throw him out every time he does it from now on."

Angelus actually wanted to break the boy's neck and drain him dry, but Angel refrained from mentioning that.

"Anything else?" Angel asked rudely. Finch glared at him for a moment before addressing Dumbledore.

"I will be speaking to the governors about this." He spat.

"That is your right Mr. Finch. Good day." Albus answered serenely. With that, Finch marched out of the office. Angel watched him go silently. When he heard the gargoyle jump back into place he turned back to Albus.

"Does that happen a lot?"

"Far more frequently than I would prefer, yes." Albus answered tiredly. "I saw that he was testing your temper as well." Dumbledore said in an offhand way.

"Was it the glare that tipped you off?" Angel asked sarcastically, suddenly feeling how early he had been dragged out of bed.

"Actually it was the glowing yellow eyes, but we can be thankful Mr. Finch was aiming acerbic comments in my direction at that moment." Albus said mildly.

Angel was quiet for a moment. He knew exactly what wasn't being asked. He just wasn't sure how to answer it satisfactorily.

"You're worried that I'll lose my temper entirely." Angel stated. Albus' eyes seemed to bore into him; he saw a faint flash of surprise before the headmaster's gaze went back to normal.

"The thought had crossed my mind." Albus admitted. "However, if luminescent irises are all I have to worry about, then we won't have a problem."

Angel didn't have 275 years experience of reading people for nothing. He knew the topic wasn't closed, nor was Albus satisfied. The headmaster was pacified for the moment, but would be keeping an eye on him. The reasons behind the action were too practical for Angel to take offense, so he didn't. At least not much.

"Are we done?" Angel asked suddenly. "I like to sleep at least a few more hours before I have to deal with another Finch." Albus looked surprised, he probably had forgotten Angel's semi nocturnal habits.

"Certainly my boy." Albus answered, and was then confused by the vampire's snort and look of mild irritation. It took him nearly ten minutes after the vampire left to realize he had called someone nearly twice his age 'boy'.

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Cordelia hadn't had much of a chance to teach her class. It turned out that wizards knew next to nothing about how non-magic people lived. They seemed to think that non-magic people lived in a kind of haze of discontent. The course thus far had included the history of the schism between wizards and non-magic people and some of the introductory sciences like physics and chemistry. This had been a hurdle for magically raised children. Cordelia figured it came from never having to outgrow the phase where you believed magic was responsible for everything. Once you know that magic really is what makes everything go, finding another way to think about it gets harder.

At the moment Alan was struggling with a question about airplanes that had popped out of nowhere.

'But professor, I read that aeroplanes can weigh hundreds of thousands of tons. Not even the strongest charm can levitate that much mass, how can two propellers lift that much weight?"

"It has to do with the shape of the wings and the…"Alan began explaining. He had rattled off about half a physic textbook trying to explain the mechanics of lift and drag. Coredelia could tell he knew what he was talking about, but he wasn't explaining in any way the class could follow.

"Cordelia, do you have anything to add?" Alan asked, a little dismayed at the lack of understanding from the class. Cordelia became very thankful that he had explained to the class that she was not an expert on everything.

"Well, to start, modern planes don't use propellers. A jet engine is kind of the same thing, but it's so much more powerful that it's not really on the same scale." She began, dredging up memories of 11th grade physics at Sunnydale High. "It comes down to air pressure. Think of how a bird flies, its wings flap and push down on the air beneath the wings, if there's more air pressure below the wings than on top of them, the bird lifts into the air, right?"

The class seemed to be following her.

"Planes work kinda the same way. They can stay in the air because the air pressure under the wings is more than the pressure over them."

The class had lost her.

"The biggest reason is how the wings are shaped." Cordelia continued. "Air has to travel farther over the top of the wings than the bottoms, so think of it like a build up of air under the wings. Jet engines pull the plane forward and the build up starts because of the amount of air rushing past the wings. Now, the more stuff you put under something, like air under a plane's wings, the higher it's going to get right?"

Nods from the class.

"And if you do it really fast, then whatever is on top of the back up of air is going to practically jump off the ground, right?"

More nods.

"So that's how." She finished, feeling very pleased with the impressed look from Alan. She had done well in her classes in high school, but it was pretty amazing that she remembered it after so much demon drama. She knew the explanation was far from complete, but it was simple enough that the class could understand it and move on.

"That was great Cordelia, thank you!" Alan said as the class jabbered about this new information.

"Alright, quiet down! We'll talk more about it when we get to transportation. For now, back to electricity."

Cordelia felt quite pleased with herself. Maybe she could get into London for a little congratulatory shopping…

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While not nearly as action packed as Professor Angel's defense course (which Ron and Harry took to like fish to water), Hermione thought Professor Wyndam-Price's class was exciting in its own right. To think that things like demons actually existed… words couldn't describe how shocked she had been the first time she saw the daily prophet calmly reporting a demon attack over the summer. Her parents had reacted as they always did to some new madcap part of the wizarding world: her mother's eyebrows hit her hairline, and her father made a smart remark, specifically, "Shall I nail a cross to the door?"

The expression on his face when she muttered "That's only for vampires." was priceless.

She was fascinated that demonic history went back thousands of years beyond the earliest human history, wizarding or muggle, and that humans weren't the top of the food chain until relatively recently. Even then, it was only because humans outnumbered demons by such a far margin that it kept them from making a move on humanity. Upon discovering that there was a huge chunk of history that she had never even heard of, she applied herself even more than usual. It almost felt like she had been slacking.

She finished scribbling additions to her notes and turned her attention back to Professor Wyndam-Price, who was just finishing the narration of the period of human uprising.

"Humans succeeded in driving the ancient demons out. We do not know exactly how this was accomplished, though we assume that warfare was rampant and casualties were high. When the very last demon was being driven out of our dimension it fed on a human and the mixing of blood created the first vampire." The Professor lectured.

Hermione scribbled furiously. This was intriguing material. She'd never given much thought to when vampires first came into being, it was enough that they existed really.

"Like the rest of the planet's biology demon species are widely varied and adapt quickly to changing environment conditions. They have survived through all the earth's climate variations with little to no effect on their populations. As a rule, demons are hardy, adaptable and not to be underestimated." Wesley finished, and waited for the class to stop scribbling notes.

"We have now finished with our history overview. While we have barely scratched the surface of demonic history, at this time it is more important for you to be able to recognize a demon than to know where it came from. We will spend the rest of the year on taxonomy." He glanced at the clock, time to let the class go free. "It's time to go, have a nice day."

The class hurriedly filed out, eager to get to the Great Hall to inhale dinner. Wesley had to admit, he loved this job. He loved teaching, he loved the intelligent questions, he loved being back in a school, and he loved being back in England. He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed his homeland…. Wesley cut off the thought before he burst into an impromptu rendition of God Save the Queen and startled the few remaining students in the room. One of the Gryffindor students hesitantly approached him.

"Professor, I was wondering if you could recommend some additional reading about demonic history. I really find it fascinating." She asked.

"Of course Miss…?"

"Granger, sir."

"Miss Granger. Are you looking for anything specific or do you want more general histories? I can recommend both, but some are rather dry." He questioned.

"I suppose general histories for now. We studied a couple of demon species back in third year, but I didn't really understand there was an entire demon culture…" She related somewhat hesitantly. Wesley understood perfectly.

"In that case, Strassmere's _Birth of the Dark_ would be an excellent place to start. It starts with demon creation myths and works forwards to the facts we have. After that go to Lintel's _History of the foul and fair_. It goes much more in depth than my overview and shouldn't leave you with too many questions." Wesley suggested, feeling amused as she wrote frantically with a quill that was threatening to bre… no make that already broken and splattering her hand with ink.

"That should do for awhile. Let me know if you have any questions." Wesley said.

"Thank you so much sir!" Granger said, looking quite excited. She stuffed the parchment into her bag and took off out the classroom door.

And he loved students like that. Not at all because he had been exactly the same in school. Not at all.

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Angel was receiving his turnabout for taking on the Finch family. A clerk from the School Governors had shown up just as he was finishing his last class and had been grilling him on his actions for nearly an hour. If the clerk hadn't been asking such broad questions that clearly came from a checklist he might have thought he was purposely being goaded. Sadly, it was just a case of bureaucracy run amok. When the clerk finally left, Angel went directly to his rooms. He was so annoyed with the Finch situation he wasn't sure he could keep out of his vampiric face for the duration of dinner. Once safely in his rooms he had a house elf bring him some blood and slipped into game face to enjoy his meal. He only fed in game face when he was alone. Feeding in vampire face made the demon easier to control by making it happier, sort of like giving a child a piece of candy. Appease Angelus every now and then through a slightly more barbaric feeding and he had less trouble keeping him under wraps when he was pissed.

This was another one of those things he kept to himself.

He had planned to spend the evening researching Cruorvox, but the visit from the clerk had set him utterly on edge. If he jumped straight into reading about vile demonic acts he'd have to kill something tonight to relieve stress. Somehow he didn't think anyone in the castle would appreciate that. Instead he fixed another mug of blood and settled down in the lounge area of his quarters with the bloodstained book.

About two hours later Wesley knocked on his door and entered at the summons.

"I was just coming to see how you were progressing with the Cruorvox resear… are you reading Douglas Adams?" Wesley asked sounding equal parts scandalized and ready to burst into laughter.

"I had a stooge from the School Governor's ask me all about my 'unprofessional behavior' for over an hour. It was either this or I slaughter something, and there aren't any demons nearby." Angel said sourly, marking his page in the bloodstained copy of _The Hitchhiker's guide to the Galaxy_ and setting it on the table. "I'll get back to reading up on unspeakable acts of evil now."

Wesley barely kept from laughing at Angel's petulant tone. Watching a vampire sulk shouldn't be that funny.

Angel pulled a half a dozen books off the shelves and settled back on the couch. "You haven't found anything by chance?" He asked grumpily, opening a book as though it was going to bite him.

"I've found some information about the possession ritual, not much, but it's a start. This Voldemort must not be concerned about his soul. The ritual has a strong chance of ripping a piece of it out and sending it into the demon without completing the possession part of the spell." Wesley said distastefully. Angel had a horrible thought.

"Does this mean the demon has soul pieces of previous casting attempts floating around inside it?" He asked.

"I believe so. It's mostly conjecture, but soul pieces can't leave a body at random once they've been put there. They must be forced to move and forced with a lot of power. This is not a ritual you can undertake lightly." Wesley finished, looking worried now.

"The fact that this wizard believes he can do it is a bad sign. He's either an idiot or he's really that powerful." Angel deducted.

"Unfortunately I'd conclude the latter. After reading some recent history of wizarding Britain it seems to me that Voldemort very nearly had it under his control before he disappeared." Wesley said.

Angel sighed.

"Yes, I know," Wesley said, slightly irritated. "I'd enjoy an inept evildoer once in a while as well."

qpqpqp

Cordelia woke from a restful sleep in utter agony. She cried out and writhed as the pain assaulted her skull. When it finally stopped she simply laid against her pillows, unwilling to move, her head was pounding with hammer blows right behind her eyebrows. She suddenly recognized a downside to having quarters next to her classroom, Angel couldn't hear if she went into vision mode, meaning he couldn't get her jumbo sized bottle of aspirin for her and take down notes. Too bad it was so late, or she'd snag a student and have them deliver the message, or maybe one of the elf things that managed to bring her snacks. Maybe they stay up late…

"Um, Elf?" She called uncertainly. There was a loud crack and suddenly a short green person wearing a towel was standing in front of her.

"Yes Professor Chase, Ma'am?" He, or possibly she, asked her looking much more awake than she was.

"Could you get Professor Angel for me? Just tell him I had a vision." She asked tiredly.

"Yes Professor, right away!" The elf said and popped away.

Just over a minute passed before the door of her quarter's living room nearly tore itself off the hinges and Angel practically materialized at her beside.

"Painkillers." She said. Needing no more clarification than that, he nodded and hurried into her bathroom for the requested medication. She was just downing the pills when an out of breath Wesley arrived.

"What did you see?" Wesley asked breathlessly, pen poised above a paper pad. Cordelia bit back a snarky response about his failure to ask how she was.

"Geology stuff." She answered. "It was all exploding volcanos and giant earth quakes and Hawaii too. Then it switched to this old book with gucky stuff all over the pages and I saw the phrase "muscle of the earth" a bunch of times. That was it." Wesley looked

up from his furious note taking.

"That was it? Nothing to vanquish, just 'muscle of the earth' and an earth science lesson?" He asked bewildered.

"That's what I said wasn't it?" She snapped tiredly. Angel wordlessly handed her a mug of tea that'd come out of no where. She sipped appreciatively.

They sat in silence while Wesley pondered. While Cordelia was thankful they didn't have to spring into action, she was a little annoyed that the PTB's had barged into her head for a freshman year science review. Suddenly the fireplace in the living room flared green and spat out Minerva McGonagall.

"Cordelia?" Minerva called while straightening her robes. She looked towards the sleeping quarters and started as Angel materialized in the bedroom doorway. She was about to ask why he was there at this time of night when he answered for her.

"She just had a vision, one of the house elves let us know." He said.

Well that was a coincidence.

"Is she alright?" Minerva asked, concerned. Angel opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Cordelia's irate voice.

"Stop blocking the door and let her in!"

Angel immediately left the doorway and hurried back to Cordelia's bed. Minerva saw that Cordelia was looking almost as bad as Mr. Potter. She had dark shadows under her eyes, one of which was ticking ever so slightly. Her forehead was scrunched up in pain and she lay against her pillows as though she would never move again.

"I'll be okay Minerva, it's always like this." Cordelia said. Minerva's lips tightened into a line.

"Always like that? How often does it happen?" The witch asked.

"About once a week, sometimes more. I've kinda gotten used to it." Cordelia said. "Though I really hate the occasional drooling problem." She continued, almost to herself. Minerva politely pretended not to hear.

"Well, as glad as I am to know you're alright, I actually came to let you know that Mr. Potter had another vision as well. As Voldemort was in a rage, he came out rather the worse from it." She informed them. "Apparently the Death Eaters have been unable to locate one element of the ritual, something called "muscle of the earth" and Voldemort was furious… have I said something wrong?" She asked when she noticed the Angelinos going still.

"Cordelia's vision consisted of geological activity and the phrase "muscle of the earth". The two are obviously connected." Wesley explained, and then went straight into his deep thought mode. Minerva looked at his sudden far away expression and then noticed the other two were watching him intently.

"Is something going to happen to him?" She asked, slightly confused.

"We're waiting for the eureka." Cordelia answered, still watching Wesley.

Angel took pity on Minerva when she mouthed _eureka?_.

"He yells it whenever he figures out som-"

"EUREKA!"

Minerva jumped.

"Everytime?" she asked, straightening her nightcap. Angel and Cordelia nodded as one.

"It's plate tectonics!" Wesley said excitedly. "The muscle of the earth, what moves the earth, what is responsible for plate tectonics… it's the mantle! They need a piece of the mantle!"

"Um, Wesley, isn't the mantle a really long ways under ground?" Cordelia asked warily, not wanting to void the eureka.

"Well, yes, but it makes sense!" Wesley defended. Minerva nodded.

"It does, but what magic would bring a portion of the inner earth to the surface?"

"Doesn't that happen when a volcano explodes?" Cordelia asked.

"No, that's just magma from the crust." Wesley muttered distractedly.

"Let's hope they don't figure out about olivine."

Everyone turned to stare at Angel.

"Excuse me?" Wesley and Minerva asked together.

"Olivine. It's a mineral that cools at high temperatures, usually found with basalt. Fast rising basalt can rip off chunks of mantle rock at depth and bring them up to the surface as olivine. I hope they don't study geology." Angel said in a lecturing tone.

Everyone kept staring.

"What? I read things besides demonology." Angel said in a slightly defensive tone. Wesley snickered. Angel silenced him with a look.

"This is excellent news." Minerva said. "Now that we know what they need, we can have our inside people drop hints pointing away from the answer if Voldemort ever sinks so low as to consult a muggle discipline."

"I'll leave you to your rest then. Good night." With that, Minerva ducked into the fireplace and disappeared in a flash of green.

"At least it had a point." Cordelia muttered. She was asleep before her mouth stopped moving. Wesley and Angel quietly excused themselves.


	7. Something Useful

Professing to be Professors- Chapter 7

Author's Note: I recently took a look at my profile and realized that I haven't updated in over two years. I do apologize. I personally hate it when authors drop off the face of the earth and here I am guilty of it. I've had the scene at the end of the chapter in my head for well over a year now and am rather happy with it now that it's finally on paper. I will excuse myself by saying that in the last chunk of time I've moved 4 times, worked in three states, enrolled in graduate school to get a master's of education, and lost my mother to meningitis. So while I'm happy to be writing again it's been one hell of a time getting here.

Chapter 7- Something Useful

Harry had a headache. It put him in a bad temper. Vision aftermaths were always bad on him and gave him more symptoms than headaches and phantom spell backlash. He just assumed no one wanted to know that he could heart whispers of Voldemort's conversations and that his vision would be tinted red all through the next day.

It was another of those things that he kept to himself.

He was sitting in the great hall nursing his headache and a glass of orange juice and trying not to feel too annoyed at losing a full night of sleep. He could never really sleep after waking from a vision and spent the rest of the night staring at his canopy and dozing restlessly. He blinked automatically trying to clear the red tint out of his sight and sighed, resigning himself to his too-dark orange juice. Hedwig had already delivered his copy of the daily prophet and he had read through the usual accounts of demon attacks, articles about the Triwizard Tournament, and advertisements for Mrs. Skower's Magical Mess Remover and was relieved to see there were no fatalities. Some days it seemed like the whole of the Wizarding world thought it was his fault if anyone died. Some days Harry didn't have the energy to argue.

Other students began to trickle in. Bridget Moon, a girl in his year friendly enough to be called an acquaintance, came in and with the absence of Ron and Hermione sat across the table from him.

"Good Morning! How's the juice today?" She greeted cheerfully. Harry was tempted to be sullen on principle but wrestled down the impulse.

"Fine, good actually. I think it was just squeezed." Harry answered. She responded by pouring herself a large glass of juice and selecting a blueberry muffin from the basket. They sat in a comfortable silence while she disposed of half the muffin and read his discarded newspaper upside down.

"Do the demon attacks scare you?" She asked suddenly. Harry was about to leave the table when he realized she wasn't looking for a 'how are you going to save us' answer.

"You mean, do I worry about being attacked?" He asked. She nodded.

"I don't know really. I guess I am, but I'm more worried about what's behind it." Harry spoke honestly. "Are you?"

"Not the same as everyone else. My family is muggle, so really I'm worried about them being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The only people being attacked are muggleborns that are active in wizard life, so I guess we're not on the kill list." She said with a facetious tone. She grinned as the phrase 'kill list' made him choke on his juice.

"You're really *cough* not scared? That's a nice change." He said and coughed again.

"Yes it is. I try to be optimistic. It annoys people who are determined to be miserable and that makes my day." She said, giggling. "So what did you think about that article revealing that airplanes are all treated with featherweight charms? I thought it explained a lot…"

Harry did think it explained a lot and had an entirely unexpected pleasant conversation.

The day was entirely normal. There were no major fights, two Weasley pranks, shepherds pie for dinner, and one crying first year in the bathroom. Nothing at all out of the ordinary or unmanageable.

It set Angel's teeth on edge.

For the past six months there had been a predictable pattern. Cordelia would have a vision, Wesley and Angel would research in old and often smelly books while Cordelia searched online, then Angel would go vanquish something and the problem would be solved. The first two parts of the routine had gone as planned but the lack of hitting evil things with heavy objects was putting a crimp in Angel's mood. He wasn't blood thirsty, in a metaphorical sense that is, but he really did love giving a good beating to something that deserved it. And he usually came up with great pre-ass-kicking lines.

Giving a safety lecture to a guilty first year that had accidentally whacked his sparring partner in the face with a quarterstaff was not a good enough replacement.

He began to pace. After several dozen circuits of his room failed to produce anything evil he decided that leaving the castle would be best for his nerves. At this point a knock on the door would result in a weapon being thrown through it. He put on his cloak, deciding right then that enchanted item ban or not it would be coming back to Los Angeles with him, and headed off for the village.

Harry wasn't much in the mood for Hogsmeade but at least it was a way to get out of the castle. Even though Hogwarts far surpassed the Dursely's in every way Harry was prone to a need to wander. He didn't feel as though he really belonged anywhere, which prompted the need to vacate every so often. Even the most welcome of guests has to leave at some point. Halfway to the front doors of the castle he was accosted by a very insistent owl. He was soon running the in direction of the kitchens with a wide grin on his face. The house elves were ecstatic to see him and even happier to gift to him a large picnic lunch for the friend he was visiting in Hogsmeade. A scarce ten minutes since he had received the letter saw him walking swiftly through the gates of Hogwarts with a heavily laden pack to meet his incognito, and apparently hungry, godfather at the end of the high street in the village. He could hardly believe Sirius was back so soon from whatever mission he'd been on, but wasn't going to complain. When Sirius was around wherever he was felt like a home simply because Harry was Sirius' first priority. He couldn't feel out of place with that kind of attention. As he approached the end of the street a large black nose poked out from around a woodpile and sniffed a few times. Immediately thereafter a giant of a dog charged the boy and proceeded to cover his face with dog saliva.

"That was so gross Sirius." Harry deadpanned. His tone was serious enough the dog looked worried. "But I'm that glad to see you too." He finished grinning, which prompted another round of slobber.

After coating his godsons face with bad smelling drool Sirius turned tail and led Harry to the cave that was serving as a secret lair. He resented that Dumbledore wouldn't let him just sneak into the castle, he was tempted to do it anyway, but he knew the headmaster would find out somehow, give him the 'look' that he made when he was disappointed in someone's actions (but not the person), he'd feel like he was twelve, involuntarily whimper like his animagus, and go back to the cave anyway. He was just saving time. Yes, saving time, being economical and adult like. Being responsible. And cold. And hungry. And flea ridden because he didn't even have a bloody generic wand to cast a stupid pest removal spell…

"Sirius?" Harry interrupted his thoughts. Sirius stopped and looked back at him quizzically.

"You were growling. Is something wrong?"

Oops. He managed a contrite and reassuring look and continued up the path, keeping his mind solidly fixed on daisies for the rest of the walk. The moment Harry made it into the cave Sirius shifted back and lifted Harry off the ground in a proper hug. The boy squawked but returned the hug the best he could from his airborne position and proceeded to grin like an idiot with joy.

"Alright, now that I can speak, please ask whatever question is burning its way through your forehead at me." Sirius said, correctly assessing Harry's mental processes.

"How come you're back so early? Where's Buckbeak? What happened with the mission? What-"

"The mission was a bust. The contact I was supposed to meet decided against it and the stakeout that was supposed to be my life for the next several months was made pointless because of that. Buckbeak is in a preserve in Spain so he can get sun for the both of us. I really thought he might go mad locked up in my barking mother's room, so I broke him out. Dumbledore may have been a little, um, annoyed…" Sirius trailed off allowing Harry to fill in the blanks. Harry's guffaw a second later assured Sirius that the boy had a created a far more entertaining event out of what was actually a boring "I'm disappointed in you" speech. They laughed together for a minute.

"I'm glad you're back." Harry said quietly after calming down. "It feels like home when you're here."

Sirius' first reaction to such a bald statement of love was to pour on the arrogance and claim that he was the greatest thing in the universe in an attempt to remain as manly as possible as he would have done with James. At the last second the part of his brain that wasn't stuck in the past kicked him in the mental hindquarters and he remembered that his surrogate son might need a little more heartfelt an answer.

"I don't ever want to be anywhere else. Even when I'm out kicking ass and taking names I'd rather be here being your godfather." He replied seriously and honestly. Harry's face scrunched unpleasantly for a moment in that 'I'm-not-going-to-cry-because-I-must-remain-manly' way, but then relaxed and he smiled. Sirius was relieved. He did love Harry with every fiber of his being, but he was unpracticed at mushy things. As unfortunate as it was that Harry was unpracticed at being mushy as well, at least it meant that they could be awkward together. And now that it was out of the way it was time to embarrass the kid shamelessly.

"So." Sirius said, getting a wicked grin on his face. "Who's your current squeeze?"

Harry appeared to choke on nothing.

"Um, no one."

"So, Hermione then?"

"What? No! We're friends! It's not-"

"Ginny?"

"But, she's Ron's sist-"

"AH! It must be that blonde with the short hair and the purple tie that talked to you outside Honeydukes!"

"She fancies girls."

"… I guess not her then." Sirius finished lamely as Harry took the wind out of his sails in what he felt was an unfair method of using truth, judging by the cat-who-got-the-cream expression on Harry's face.

Angel had lurked around the village for some time before discovering that the candy shop sold a bizarre thing called a Blood Pop. The shopkeeper went from suspicious of the dark cloaked figure in his shop to completely terrified after Angel brought a blood pop to the counter to purchase. Unable to resist, he shifted his eyes to yellow, fully aware they would glow inside his hood. He was completely incapable of restraining a maniacal giggle (a dignified giggle, but a giggle none the less) as the shopkeeper squeaked and dove behind the counter in full view of half the population of Hogwarts. Preparing to be disgusted by an artificial cherry flavor, Angel sampled the blood pop.

'_It tastes exactly like B-Positive.'_

He froze in awe for a few moments and then made a resolution that he would find some way to get a steady supply of blood pops once he got back to Los Angeles. He came out of his candy induced daze just in time to see Potter disappearing out of town at the end of the high street with a giant black dog. Deciding that it was not his extreme boredom that made him latch on to the tiniest out of order thing, he decided that when Potter got pissed at him for intruding on a small moment of privacy he could play the professor card and not feel like too much of an ass.

He followed Potter and the dog at a distance and noticed with mounting confusion that Potter was talking to the dog and the dog was responding with oddly human gestures and expressions. The smell of the dog was wrong. It smelled like dog, but also like a man in his mid thirties. Angel had met shape shifters before, but was wondering why Potter was sneaking off to meet one. After Potter and the dog slid into a small cave Angel crept up to the entrance and eavesdropped.

'_Buckbeak? Mission? Godfather?'_ After some minutes of conversation Angel's ability to keep his nose out of other people's business failed him and he sidled into the cave.

"So just remember, there is no situation you can't get out of if you can charm the people who're pissed at you." Sirius said. Harry tried to nod, but he was overcome with hysterical laughter after the story about Sirius flirting his way out of a failing grade on his apparition license test.

"So why can't you visit your godfather like a normal person?"

Professor Angel's question had the effect of a gunshot. Both Sirius and Harry yelped, Sirius leapt in front of Harry and assumed the most threatening stance Harry had seen since the showdown with Pettigrew.

Professor Angel's response was to shrug off the hood of his cloak and act as though Sirius had nodded politely.

"Um…professor…" Harry started eloquently.

"It's none of your business, _professor_, if Harry visits his relatives, so if you don't mind, get the fuck out of my cave." Sirius finished, sounding progressively more doglike as he spoke.

"So I shouldn't be worried that one of my students is out with a shape shifter? That happens to be a serial killer? That has a lot of fleas?

"The fleas aren't my fault!!" Sirius exploded, "And I didn't kill anyone." He continued more calmly. "Ask Dumbledore. Maybe if he's in a good mood he'll collaborate my story." He ended bitterly causing Harry to glance at him with no small amount of shock at the slight to the headmaster.

Angel gave him his penetrating 'I'd-like-to-believe-you-because-I'm-a-friendly-vampire-just-give-me-more-to-go-on" look. It worked brilliantly.

"Just talk to Dumbledore. Harry's father and I were rookie aurors with the ministry when Harry's parents were killed. One of our best friends framed me for the murder and faked his own death." Sirius waited a beat. "Seriously? Dumbledore is one of the most powerful wizards in Europe and Harry is the most famous 14 year old in the European wizard community. Do you really think we could get away with this if I wasn't telling the truth?"

Professor Angel blinked.

"You have a good point."

The professor opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the sudden, panicked appearance of a house elf.

"Professor Angel Vampire sir! Professor Chase is needing you sir! She is hurting a lot!" It squeaked while wringing its hands.

"Let's go," Professor Angel ordered, deadly serious, he turned to run out of the cave door but had to suddenly stop to avoid running into a wall in the muggle studies corridor as the house elf had transported all three of them into the castle. It had apparently misunderstood Professor Angel's use of the word 'let's. The professor recovered with inhuman speed and bolted through a nearby door as Sirius turned back into a ragged looking dog with a hurried pop. When Professor Angel didn't reappear, Harry edged forward to peek through the door. Professor Chase was collapsed in a chair and choking out words while Professor Wyndam-Price and Professor Angel crouched over her.

"Royan demons! Esp…Ext…Exposition Park…in the roses! Bunch of band groupies!" She ground out while holding her head as though it would explode.

"How do we kill them?" Professor Wyndam-Price asked.

"Stab them! A lot! Squish their heads! It'll all work, now will you GO?!" She yelled at him. The men scrambled back, Professor Angel wrapping his cloak around him as Professor Wyndam-Price started an international floo connection. Harry was wishing desperately that he knew what was going on and that he could help. He had an idea that Sirius was feeling the same way guessing from the several false starts he made during the painful conversation. Just then Professor Angel called out to him.

"Are you two coming?"

Harry's heart leapt in his chest while Sirius looked simultaneously excited and confused.

"Angel what are you doing? They can't come! Harry's a student and that is a dog. A very big one yes with good sized teeth… " Sirius bared his fangs to show off. "But we cannot endanger a student! Particularly that one!" Professor Wyndam-Price shouted as the floo flared into existence.

"Wesley, shut up." Professor Angel said with a near growl. "Come on!" he said and dove into the floo. Harry and Sirius glanced at each other, recognized a great opportunity when they saw it and ran after him.

The longest floo ride of their life spat them out into a dark, dusty office. Sirius turned back into a man to catch Harry as he came flying out of the fireplace, closely followed by Wesley, who was not happy with their presence. The professor who looked like a vampire, the cool kind, not the Snape kind, was already across the room and pulling weapons out of a cabinet.

"Hey, dog man, can you use a sword?" He asked while piling a battle axe and two daggers into the crook of his arm.

"It's Sirus, and yes, as long as you don't care about my form." Sirus answered.

Angel tossed him a large broad sword with a serrated edge and a hook along one side. Sirius appeared to be experiencing Christmas early.

"Harry, catch!" Angel tossed Harry a smaller sword with straight edges, which the teenager deftly caught and gripped properly. Angel finished loading himself up with the addition of a crossbow and heading for the door with a sullen Wesley grabbing the crossbow out of his hands. Minutes later they were all speeding south on Figueroa, nearly abandoned at two in the morning. Wesley was hurriedly giving Harry and Sirius killing instructions.

"Royan demons are relatively weak on the demonic scale, they're a little weaker than vampires and nowhere near as fast, so this shouldn't be too dangerous. Angel tells me that you do very well with sword work?" Wesley directed the last bit at Harry.

"Yes, professor, that's what he says at least." Harry said, the reality that he had just gone halfway across the world to fight demons with a sword setting in. It felt rather floaty.

"You can use a sword now? I mean, without a lucky phoenix? That's my godson!" Sirius crowed happily. "After we get back you and I are going to start bouting, it'll be great!"

Angel, who had been concentrated on the road till now, glanced back at the words 'lucky phoenix', very confused.

"I'll tell you after we kill some monsters!" Sirius assured him.

"Yes! Monsters! As I was saying!" Wesley interrupted. "Royan demons can be killed like any human, they just need more force to do so. A beheading will work, as will disemboweling, cutting off limbs... all those will be sufficiently fatal wounds. Harry, please use any spell you deem appropriate."

"But I'll be expelled! The ministry gave me a warning for using magic outside of school before my second year. If I get caught again they'll-"

"Do nothing. England's magical jurisdiction ends at its borders. The American Council has much looser standards for magical concealment, particularly around the Los Angeles area as it is impossible to get the average citizen to believe something isn't a special effect. Are you proficient in blasting curses and shield charms?"

"Yeah, I've got a really good reducto-" Harry started.

"You'll be fine. Use your wand first, then the sword when they get close. We're here."

Angel pulled his convertible over a curb to avoid a gate blocking the way into the row of museums and gardens that make up Exposition Park. He rolled to a stop by a bank of picnic tables and jumped from the car. The wizards and the scholar followed a vampire at a rapid clip towards the huge rose garden. The massive bushes were harshly pruned back for the approaching Los Angeles winter and threw weak shadows from the distant streetlights. They were passing through a spiral of standing stones when a volley of screams began in the far corner of the garden. Angel took off with superhuman speed, vaulting the fence with no effort and disappearing through the shrubs. Wesley, Harry, and Sirius followed the trail of snapped branches and the screams to a open area in the garden that was momentarily filled with 4 terrified band groupies, one of whom was holding his bleeding stomach and kicking madly at one of several demons.

Harry had been studying Professor Wyndam-Price's lessons for three months now; he could identify several dozen species of demons and knew what they ate, who they prayed to, if they were evil, and how to kill them if they were. This was the first time he'd ever seen a demon in the flesh. The Royan demons were humanoid with pale green skin, large elongated skulls that came to a point in the back, and clawed hands, but not feet. Their jaws could open nearly 180 degrees in order to use all their teeth, as Harry got to verify in the next second, and were definitely on the evil side of the demon scale. Professor Angel had waded into the group of six demons and had already cut off the arm of one with his axe and had caused multiple injuries to the rest by striking with incredible speed. Sirius let out a crazy war whoop and charged at the nearest Royan.

The demon was so surprised by the assault that Sirius let its intestines out on its feet with the serrated sword before it knew what happened. Two Royans let out shrieks of rage and came at the wizard, claws out and ready to take off Sirius's face. He swung the sword in an overhand strike at the closer of the two in an attempt to cleave its head. The demon knocked the sword aside with the back of a tough forearm and shot its claws forward again, managing to graze Sirius' face. Using the momentum of the first sword blow he came at the demon again, noticing too late that the second demon had waited for a second of distraction and was a split second from slashing his throat. Just before his throat opened a bright red beam ripped into the demon intent on his carotid artery, blowing apart its chest. The demon Sirius had been focused on lost its concentration as its cohort died from a colored beam of light, allowed Sirius to neatly cut its head in half. The two demons dead, Sirius chance a look back to where he'd left Harry. Harry was busily firing off well aimed blasting curses at the remaining two demons who were now fighting in desperation as an axe, sword, crossbow, and curse were cutting off all escape routes. As the fifth demon went down in a combined effort of Angel's axe and Wesley's crossbow bolt to the head, the sixth made a mad dodge around its dying brother and fled, straight towards Harry. Sirius yelled a warning at his godson, who turned around just in time to use his sword to simultaneously slice the grasping demonic hands from their wrists and fire a point blank curse to the chest of the demon. Who looked very surprised as it turned into chunks.

Harry stood in shock as smelly demon bits covered the ground in front of him. When Sirius had yelled he thought it was already too late but had brought his sword up as he turned in hopes that it would at least make the demon pause while he cursed it. The demon had been so close that the sideways swing of the sword had neatly taken off its hands, distracting it for the second Harry needed to get the curse ready.

He stood, saw the groupies stagger off under distant street lights, and suddenly felt happier than he'd ever felt before_. I did something! I actually helped somebody! And I didn't mess it up!_ A huge, exultant grin spread over his face, which widened as Sirius developed a grin of his own.

"So. Godson. Can we agree that we are the most fantastic demon fighting men on the face of the planet?" Sirius asked while trying to casually flick a piece of intestine off his sword. Harry, brilliant public speaker that he was, nodded while grinning stupidly.

Angel reappeared after having seen the groupies back to the lighted areas of the park. He had hidden his axe somewhere in the long coat he had picked up in the office and walked casually with his hands in his pockets. He moved up next to Wesley, had a quick conversation, and sidled up to Harry and Sirius.

"So, same time next week?"

It took Harry the whole trip back to the office and through the floo, which Sirius took in his canine form for precaution, to regain his ability to talk. Speech returned at the exact moment he shot into Professor Chase's room and rolled to a stop at the feet of Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"Oh. Damn."

Author's note: I know, horrid stopping place, but the next scene is going to be so much fun to write.


	8. Ultimatum, backbone, and wrong time

Chapter 8- Ultimatums, backbones, and the wrong time.

For the first time in his short but dramatic life Harry was surprised by the fact that someone was angry with him.

His relatives were always angry with him, Voldemort wanted to kill him, he infuriated Snape like clockwork, McGonagall seemed to be in a constant state of annoyance around him, but Dumbledore…

Dumbledore was furious. With him. And it was terrifying.

"What were you thinking?" Dumbledore asked, his calm voice at odds with the utter fury in his expression. "What were all of you thinking?"

There was a long and very guilty silence.

"Sir," Harry began, "Professor Chase had a…" He looked to Angel for help.

"Cordelia had a vision of a Royan demon attack in Los Angeles. We stopped it." Angel answered, purposefully not explaining what Dumbledore wanted to know.

"I had gathered that much. What I find myself not understanding is why you felt it necessary to drag Mr. Potter to the other side of the world to deal with your own responsibilities." Dumbledore said in an icy tone.

"I felt it necessary to give someone that has the stigma of 'you-must-save-us-all' something useful to do." Angel said calmly.

"The presence of this public stigma does not entitle you to-"

"Professor, shut up."

Everyone looked in shock at Cordelia.

"Anyone who gets visions, gets the crappy end of prophecies, who has some fucking higher purpose, has to do something." She said forcefully, "I get these stupid visions. I could ignore them, take morphine, and go dazzle Hollywood, but I don't. I couldn't see that pain and do nothing about it. So you look at him," she gestured in Harry's direction.

Everybody turned to stare at Harry, who did not appreciate the sudden attention.

"Not literally you idiots!" Everyone jumped. "I meant that he's got these visions of Morty plotting and people dying and you don't let him DO anything about it! Can't you see how bad that is?" Cordelia fell back in her chair, spent, but still angry.

"Harry is far too young to be given this kind of respons-"

"Most Slayers are called at 14. All they get is a stronger arm and a Watcher with a lot of books and they stop the world from ending four times a year. What's your excuse?" Angel pushed.

"Harry did great professor. He was as calm as a seasoned auror and killed two demons without breaking a sweat. As the only one with parental power, I say we give him all the training he wants so he's not helpless and can do some good in the meantime." Sirius said earnestly.

"Sirius, you are a convicted felon, you do not have a say in this matter." Dumbledore said flatly. A look of shock flashed across Sirius' face before fading into a blank mask.

"I will not endanger the life of one of my students." Dumbledore said firmly, allowing his presence to take back control of the room, "Harry will not leave the grounds from this point forward and if anything like this happens again professors," he directed this to the Angelinos, "you will be removed from your positions. Now, everyone go to bed."

Dumbledore left the room after a harsh look at the occupants. There was a silence, and a growing cloud of anger from the remaining people.

"I would like to say," McGonagall began, "That whatever course of action you all deem appropriate for this circumstance, that you will not tell me the details. I would like to support everyone as equally as possible and so long as you act responsibly towards Mr. Potter and he gets his assignments in on time I will not interfere. Goodnight." She left the room like her animagus, not disrupting the total silence her statement had created.

"I think Dumbledore finally touched one of McGonagall's nerves." Sirius said. Everyone was silent, considering the ramifications of the neutrality they had been given.

"Harry, do you want to do this? Fight with us? You'll learn a lot very quickly, probably experience bodily harm, and grow to really hate the word apocalypse. I don't know if this will help you with Voldemort, but it will keep you busy in the mean time." Wesley offered.

Harry looked at Sirius for guidance. Sirius had a completely blank expression on his face, which Harry realized was on purpose. This was going to be only his decision.

"Of course I do. Professor Chase has it right, I _hate_ seeing all of it and not doing a thing. I'm supposed to be this special person, supposed to be able to kill Voldemort and everybody I know makes me go to class like it matters. Yeah, I want to fight with you." Harry stated, absolutely sure of himself.

"Okay, was I the only one who thought he was channeling Buffy there?" Cordelia asked.

Angel and Wesley shook their heads in unison.

"That was the whole speech I believe, with only a few modifications." Wesley answered.

"Who's Buffy?" Harry asked, intrigued that there was anyone in the world that suffered from the exact same issues he did.

"A vampire slayer in the States that we know. She has a lot of problems with prophecies, being a chosen one and mathematics, you'd probably get along quite well," Wesley said with amusement.

"I only have one condition, though I guess as a convicted felon I don't REALLY have a say, but maybe you all will ignore that," Sirius said, "I just want to know what's going on and obliterate evil things as much as I can. Does everyone agree with that?"

"I'll take a swordfighting shapeshifter any day.", "Welcome aboard sir!", "Um, yeah!" Angel, Wesley, and Cordelia responded in turn.

"Serious!" Harry exclaimed, staring at his godfather with joy in his heart and entrails in his head.

"No, Sirius!" Sirius finished with the grin of one who thinks he's told a great joke.

There was silence.

"That was lame." Cordelia sneered.

"But we're delighted to have you both anyway!" Wesley covered.

Harry spent the rest of the evening feeling as fulfilled as he ever had. He was doing something, he had a purpose, he would do good and smite evil! He felt like a white knight in a fairy tale, absolutely nothing could bring him down. His night was out of the ordinary not only because for once he didn't feel useless, but that he didn't tell Ron and Hermione what was going on. It wasn't a negative feeling that kept him from doing so. He didn't think they would tell anyone, or that they wouldn't understand, more that life would probably go a lot smoother for everyone if they just thought he and Sirius were bonding over old stories of Harry's parents.

As it was, if Harry had stood on a table and screamed that he had traveled halfway around the world to kill demons with the muggle professors, he likely wouldn't have been noticed. Upon returned to the common room he found that the Tri-wizard Tournament would officially begin with the arrival of tournament candidates from the two other Wizarding schools, Durmstrang and Beaubatons. Gossip was rife over what the visiting students would be like and the likely hood that all of the Durmstrang people would just be evil. Harry gathered Durmstrang had a rather nasty reputation.

Harry found that the tournament just wasn't as exciting as it was before he'd gone and smote evil.

"Hey Harry! How're you gonna get your name in the cup?" Fred yelled over the roar of the common room.

"Are you kidding?" Harry guffawed, "One chance where I can decide whether I want to do something dangerous at school. Someone else can spend their whole year visiting Madame Pomfrey."

There was a pause in the noise of the common room while everyone stared at Harry looking shocked.

"I don't like people trying to kill me, is that so bloody weird?" Harry yelled, abruptly losing hold of his temper.

"Noooo," Ron drawled in a cautious manner from near the fireplace. "I don't think anyone thinks its weird mate… AT ALL." The last statement was forcefully directed at the common room, which turned back to its gossip and in one case, knitting.

Harry played card games, lost at chess, and utterly ignored his homework in celebration of his new found (junior) warrior status until it was far past time to go to bed.

A week passed. Classes continued while the castle was cleaned furiously for the beginning of the tournament and the professors became incredibly demanding, with the exception of Professors Angel and Chase. The native Californian and outdated Irishman didn't truly grasp the scope of the competition, but found steady fascination at the preparation. When asked, Angel would deny that he purposefully turned up out of no where in dark corners while young and easily frightened ministry lackeys were walking by. His refute of his actions was proven a lie when one of his victims ended up being Percy Weasley, who immediately wrote up an official complaint about the ridiculous lack of professionalism in a professor who would hide in a corner in a cloak and shout 'boo' at passerby.

As the flying horse drawn carriage descended on the lawn and a mighty vessel boiled its way out of the lake, Angel couldn't help but feel like his car was a little lacking in heroic oomph.

"Is my car lame?" Angel suddenly asked Wesley.

"What?" Wesley asked not taking his eyes off of the visiting students and their incredible transport. "I… no? Why does that even matter at this moment?"

"A convertible for a vampire is stupid, but lame, nope." Cordelia said, deciding the matter.

"It's not stupid! It's practical for getting in and out faster when the top is down. I don't have to waste time opening the door." Angel defended. Both Wesley and Cordelia gave him quick scoffing looks.

"You've done that like, once, and you got your good leather duster caught and tore it and haven't done it since then. It's stupid." Cordelia said. "But not lame."

"Oh look, GIANT FLYING HORSES." Wesley said loudly, halting the argument.

Another week passed and Hogwarts had finally settled into having foreign students within its walls. It had become a sport among the older students to see how many of the foreign students a single person could date. The record was held by Imogene Banks at six, but the year was still young.

Harry was headed for lunch on Sunday when he suddenly noticed a trunk and a cat in a carrying basket sitting by the front doors. His interest turned to concern when he saw the name on the trunk stating that it belonged to a B. Moon. He had only a few seconds to digest this before Bridget came into the entrance hall with Professor Flitwick. She looked terrible, bags under her eyes and a slump to her shoulders that went far beyond bad posture.

"Bridget?" Harry asked, "What's going on?"

Harry cringed when Bridget looked at him. Her expression was totally dead, devoid of feeling and any evidence of her devil-may-care personality.

"My mum is dead." Bridget said woodenly.

"Wh-what?" Harry stammered. "But there were no attacks or-"

"It wasn't a demon attack." Bridget cut him off. "It wasn't anything. She got really sick last week, a bad fever, and went into the hospital. Then she was fine and the whole family relaxed. We had her stay with a nurse friend for a week to make sure, cause we were really afraid and then she went back to her flat. My brother went to check on her last night and she was dead. Fever came back and killed her. She was still warm when my brother found her."

Tears were spilling from her eyes but there was still no feeling in them. Harry couldn't name the emotion he was feeling, he only knew that it was one of the most terrible he had ever experienced.

"I'm sorr-" Harry started and was cut off again.

"You know the worst part of this? I wish it had been an attack, then maybe there would have been some fucking reason for it. Some reason that it's just me and some brothers I hardly know. Because right now I think the universe hates me and there's nothing that says otherwise." She said with an icy bitterness.

Harry was speechless. People often pitied him over the loss of his parents but he didn't remember them. It was like being consoled for the loss of a five times great grandparent. He was sad he didn't have them, but he more missed the idea than the real people. This…this pain he was seeing cut him to his core and the worst thing was that she was right, there was no reason for it, no one to blame, no one to punish for this horrible wrong. Harry suddenly felt grateful that at least he had some one to blame for the things that went wrong in his life.

He still couldn't speak, couldn't think of anything that could be even remotely appropriate, so he went with his instinct and hugged her. She was stiff for all of a half second then latched onto him as though her life depended on it. He held her for several minutes, abstractly understanding that the physical contact was far more important than he could possibly know.

She released him when the sounds of one of the schools horseless carriages sounded through the doors. She gave him a look of parting and walked through the doors without a second glance, Professor Flitwick levitating her luggage behind her.

Harry took off running for Professor Angel's office. He needed Sirius and he needed him now.

Twenty minutes later saw Sirius, Professor Chase, Professor Angel and Professor Wesley all gathered in Angel's quarters with Harry having an emotional private lunch.

"Why?" Harry asked angrily. "She's right that there's no point to it. She didn't have anything to do with Death Eaters or Voldemort or demons, her mum should have been safe!"

"People die." Professor Angel said. "They die for all kinds of reasons. Sometimes it means something big, sometimes it's senseless, sometimes it seems like the wrong time, but _people die_. It's bad and it hurts, but it's not unnatural. Bridget is allowed to hate the world, to not talk to anyone, to do whatever she needs to so she can move on with her life. You can't avenge anything for her, she just has to accept it."

"But I want to! She doesn't deserve to hurt like that!" Harry protested.

"Not many people do, Harry." Sirius said gently. "But everyone has to at some point."

Harry fell silent, seething, feeling totally helpless and bursting with furious energy.

Cordelia stiffened, "VISION!" She screamed. "Mulgana beast! Anaheim! Family by Disneyland!" She slumped sideways as the vision pain released her.

"On the other hand," Angel said as he helped Cordelia through the fireplace to her own quarters, "I know a great remedy for frustration that involves entrails…"

Harry smiled malevolently.

Forty five minutes later Harry took aim with his wand, held his sword ready, and thought, _It's not meaningless, I'm going to make sure of it. _

About forty five seconds later he was feeling much less heroic and more panicked. The Mulgana beast was a huge, mucos covered, too-many-legs-to-count, monster that had the ability to regrow body parts faster than Wesley, Angel, Sirius, and Harry combined could remove them. It didn't have any vulnerable spots either; the only way to kill it was dismemberment far faster than they could manage.

"_REDUCTO!_" Harry incanted while slashing off a leg. Three legs and a chunk of belly exploded and were replaced within a few seconds. Angel launched himself onto the beast's back and used great swinging sword blows to lop off legs from above. He was making great progress, the beast couldn't shake him without the lost legs. Harry let loose with three more _reductos_ in rapid succession, relieving the beast of most of its chest and half its head. Sirius hacked at its hindquarters and Wesley unloaded crossbow darts into its throat. They were winning!

And then one of the remaining legs reversed and struck like a scorpion tail, straight through Angel.

"Professor!" Harry screamed as the leg flailed and sent Angel in a spiraling arc to land on a painting of Donald Duck on the asphalt. The ground they had gained was lost almost all the beast's parts were grown back, and Harry got a horribly good idea.

"_WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA_!" Harry roared. The beast shot ten feet off the ground and then the rising slowed. _'Merlin, it's heavy, it's so heavy'_. In the use of the spell Harry had never felt the weight of the object he was levitating like this. He was feeling tired already but he couldn't stop now that he had started. He needed to get the beast high enough that it would explode when it landed. The beast inched toward twenty feet and came to a halt flailing madly for purchase in the air, Harry's hand started to shake, he grabbed the wand with both hands, concentrating harder…

"You can do it Harry!" Sirius encouraged. "All magic follows will! Concentrate! There is nothing else it can do, you command it!"

Harry gritted his teeth, his feet felt rooted to the ground. _'I need help, I need help, I need help… come on!'_ he screamed in his head seeking an unknown aid. '_UP._' He thought with all his mind. A feeling similar to a strong wind suddenly began flowing into him from all directions, traveling to form a pressure in his chest before rushing down his arms and into his wand and became visible in a huge pale yellow beam out of his wand. The beam hit the beast and it shot into the sky as though blown out of a cannon.

Harry, Sirius, Wesley, and even the impaled Angel craned their heads back to follow the incredible skyward path of the demonic beast. It flew upward until it became a tiny dot, then began to grow again and Harry realized at the last second the one thing he forgot about his brilliant plan. He dragged Sirius and Wesley in front of Angel in one mighty pull and yelled "Protego!" just in time to prevent them all from being pummeled by high speed demon guts.

There was silence as everyone observed the wall of innards hanging in the air in front of them.

"Professor!" Harry said, suddenly remembering that there was a serious injury to deal with. The innards crashed to the ground in a disgusting heap. Harry dashed over to Professor Angel certain he was going to find a man hanging to his life by a thread. Instead it was something else.

"You didn't tell me the legs could reverse!" Angel was accusing of Wesley. Even the hole in his chest seemed to have an attitude about it.

"I didn't know! Do you think anyone else trying to kill that species was a vampire capable of leaping onto its back like a caveman going after a mammoth? Just because you employ kamikaze methods does not mean anyone else in the learned world does!" Wesley retorted snottily.

Sirius cleared his throat, just as captivated by the gaping wound and the word 'vampire' as Harry was, but was able to vocally express it.

"Excuse me… why aren't you dead?" Sirius asked hesitantly.

Angel and Wesley exchanged a look and shrugged.

"I am dead. I'm a vampire demon." Angel said casually while his face mutated to a nasty parody of itself with fangs and a ridged forehead.

Harry took a firmer grip on his wand in case this turned out to be one of those betrayal moments.

"So you're teaching why?" Sirius asked.

"Gypsies cursed me about a century ago by giving me my soul back. After murdering people for a hundred and fifty years I feel like I should… um… make up for it.." Angel explained awkwardly

Harry and Sirius exchanged a look, and shrugged.

"You picked a good profession then." Sirius said. "So, do you need a doctor or medi-witch? Or does the whole… hole in the chest take care of itself?"

"A good amount of pig blood and I'll be fine." Angel said, getting to his feet with Wesley's help.

"By the way, Harry, that was an amazing levitation charm! That demon weighed in the excess of several tons, by rights you shouldn't have been able to manage that." Wesley complimented.

"It was weird, at the last minute it felt like wind went into me and came out the wand with a lot more power. I've never felt anything like it. I was just thinking that I couldn't do it, that I needed help, and it just happened." Harry recalled.

Wesley considered that while they put Angel into the convertible and went back to the office. After depositing Angel on a comfy looking couch in the apartment under the office and pressing a gallon of pig blood into his hands, Wesley had the revelation.

"Ah, eureka. I think you channeled some elemental energy, specifically wind energy. I think it was the call for help and the fierce concentration that pulled the local wind energy towards you. The elements are actually relatively easy going when it comes to human wishes. Think of how many times the weather will suddenly turn nice if many people are wishing for it. Do you have an affinity with air by chance?" Wesley lectured.

"He's the best flier you'll ever see! No one can match him on a broom." Sirius crowed, lounging in a large recliner across the room.

"I think so, " Harry said. "I feel at home when I'm flying."

"Very good! I will do some research for you and see if we can't find some instruction to develop that talent." Wesley offered.

"Deal!" Harry said, grinning broadly.

"Sirius, do you know how to use a wand?" Wesley asked, while taking Angel's empty blood pitcher in to the kitchen and rinsing it.

"Yes." Sirius said angrily.

"Then why don't you use one? You blade skills are formidable, but it would benefit everyone more if-"

"I'm a _convicted felon_, remember?" Sirius bitterly emphasized. "I can't buy a wand in Britain and Dumbledore won't even get me a generic wand for basic necessities. I'm beginning to question his reasoning for that."

"Hmm, yes, well…" Wesley sidestepped. "We could get you an American wand, then it won't be traced in Britain and I know a man who won't ask questions. Would that do-ERK."

"" Sirius said while holding Wesley aloft in a bear hug.

A half hour later saw Sirius customizing his brand new wand made of western hemlock, Sasquatch hair, and Pupfish scales. After it was done it bore a beautiful silver inlay along the handle and halfway up the length of the wand in what the wand maker called a 'tribal' pattern. Sirius cradled it like it was a newborn baby.

"It's beautiful." Sirius said sappily, then whipped it to his head in a frenzy. "ARTHRIPODIA MORDE!"

The assembled group in the shop looked on in disgust as a hoard of dead fleas fell from Sirius' head. He banished the pile of tiny carcasses with no shame and a brilliant smile.

"Alright folks, let's…go home."


	9. Ink, blood, and tea on the carpet

Chapter 9

Teaching standards, a heart to heart, and counseling

Cordelia enjoyed teaching far more than her high school self ever would have imagined. When she thought about it, it made sense. When teaching the attention of the whole room was focused on her, the kids thought she was a genius because she could explain how cars worked, and, shockingly, she really enjoyed it when they 'got' something. Who knew? She did learn a hell of a lot about curbing her attitude however. One day right at the beginning of term, one of the wizard-raised kids had asked "Wait, muggles have _THEATER_?" and Cordelia had given him a response that made her Queen C side proud. "Of course we do, idiot, where do you think Shakespeare came from?" The class chuckled, and the kid shut up, but later Cordy was called to Pomona Sprout's office where the boy was in tears about her response.

"I'm not an idiot!" He cried as soon as she walked in. "I just don't know! No one in my family even knows any muggles, it's not my fault!"

Cordelia was speechless. Biting wit was so inherent in her communication she hadn't even considered the effect it would have on this thirteen year old.

"I'm not an idiot." He repeated forcefully and sat with a huff. Professor Sprout laid a hand on his shoulder and stared meaningfully at Cordelia.

"I…I'm sorry." Cordelia apologized. The boy looked up in surprise. "I didn't even think that you might not know, I thought you were just being, you know, dumb on purpose, like you were making fun of me…I'm sorry."

Professor Sprout eyed her appraisingly.

"Under these circumstances I think we can all understand why we came to this conclusion. Can we shake hands and start again?"

"I promise that I won't be rude or assume about things wizards know." Cordelia offered.

"If I'm really surprised about something I'll ask about it in a better way." The Hufflepuff offered.

They shook hands and the boy headed off to lunch looking much better especially after Pomona shot a discreet Straighten Up spell at his back.

"Um… what's his name?" Cordelia asked sheepishly.

Pomona rolled her eyes.

Despite the embarrassing completion to the incident with Jerry, Cordelia had made a huge effort to just be nice to the students. She had never had a problem with feeling depressed or insulted in school, but she did admit that's because she was usually doing the insulting.

"It's karma…" She muttered to herself on her way to dinner. She was just two staircases and a hallway from the great hall when she heard the not-so-dulcet tones of the resident potions professor from around the next corner.

"What have you done now you ignorant twit?! Is it not enough to consistently profane my classroom with your incapable brewing skills, you must torment me outside of class?" Professor Snape said angrily.

Cordelia peered around the corner to find Snape loudly castigating one of her muggle studies students, a boy named Neville. While he was a little clumsy, she thought he was a really nice kid, especially since he was a pureblood. Most of the purebloods in the muggle studies class were little jerks, though she kept that opinion to herself. It looked like Neville had run into Snape in the hallway and spilled a bottle of red ink on Snape's robes.

"You foul excuse for a wizard! Can't even walk properly! You- "

"Uh, not cool." Cordelia interrupted, quickly walking around the corner.

"You find it acceptable then, that this idiot should soak me with his school supplies." Snape retorted in an ugly tone. Neville cringed, turning red and looking more ashamed by the minute.

"He is NOT an idiot." Cordelia said forcefully. "C'mon Neville let's get out of here."

Neville looked at her like she was his savior and immediately hurried to her side as she strutted away, and attempting to ignore Snape's seething glare boring into the backs of both their heads.

"So, what happened there?" Cordelia asked Neville as they made their way towards dinner.

"It was an accident! I was just walking around the corner trying to get my ink in my bag and he came around the corner at the same time and it spilled! I tried to apologize but he just started to yell like he always does." Neville explained.

"Always does?" Cordelia asked, a little more concerned than she was a minute ago.

"Yeah, he yells all the time in potions. I get really nervous when people are angry with me, so I don't do very well. I've melted three cauldrons just because he yelled at me and I accidentally dropped the wrong ingredient in." Neville said woefully.

Cordelia considered this admission of a teacher verbally abusing a student. While she was technically guilty of doing the exact same thing, at least she had only done it once and had apologized. This seemed a bit different. With the thought of karma still at the front of her mind, she began to plot.

"I would suggest keeping away from Snape as much as you can, and if he gives you any problems come and tell me, ok?" Cordelia suggested.

Neville nodded, relieved.

"Hungry? I think they made lasagna!" They both brightened up and hurried into the great hall.

"Heeeeyy, Wesley, I gotta a question for you."

Wesley regarded Cordelia, it was rare that she didn't just spit out whatever she was thinking. It must be serious.

"Alright, ask away." He said.

"Is it illegal for teachers to verbally abuse students here like everywhere else, or is there an exception because it's a wizard school?" She asked.

"Pardon me?" Wesley asked, alarmed. "What did you say?"

"Not me, you ass! I caught Snape tearing into Neville Longbottom before dinner today. He was calling him names and everything cause the kid accidentally spilled ink on him." She explained. "I was really surprised, not even Snyder ever got that bad. And then Neville told me it happens all the time! That he's screwed up in class because Snape goes after him."

"That… is very troubling. Clearly we need to contact the Magical Educators Association. I shall find the appropriate person to speak to." Wesley decided.

"Good. That guy's an asshole."

Approximately two days after Wesley sent off an owl to the M.E.A, two representatives arrived at Hogwarts, grim faced and wielding an investigations warrant that not even Albus Dumbledore could ignore. After discreetly speaking with representatives of every house and year they came to an obvious conclusion: Snape was intentionally nasty to younger years in order to weed out students that he didn't like, blatantly verbally abused a multitude of students in and out of class, and favored his own house to a shocking and often educationally debilitating degree. They presented their findings to Dumbledore with Snape present.

"We designed the interviews as a faculty review rather than an investigation. We wanted to avoid the students embellishing or diminishing their thoughts based on what they thought might occur, and if the accusations proved unfounded we wanted to preserve Professor Snape's reputation. This method is twofold in that we can see the emotional and clinical responses to our questions in an unbiased manner and that we also do complete a faculty review which we will be available to you, Headmaster." M.E.A. representative #1 began.

Dumbledore nodded for him to continue. Snape stared calmly at a spot on the wall.

"I'll cut right to the heart of the matter. Professor Snape is unfit to be a professor by M.E.A. standards. Despite his excellent qualifications in the field of potions we have too many recorded incidents of verbal abuse and favoritism to allow him to continue teaching." Representative #2 continued.

Snape's reaction surprised them all.

"Finally… deliverance." He breathed. Snape closed his eyes and basked in the feeling of freedom for a moment.

"Severus?" Albus asked, suprised. Snape ignored the implied question.

"Gentlemen, if I were to resign and withdraw from the castle immediately, would that be sufficient to keep this from public knowledge." Snape asked the representatives.

"While our faculty review would be accessible via public educational records as required by law, you may resign from the position with no public backlash." Representative #2 answered. "You will be leaving immediately then?"

"Yes." Snape said definitively. "Albus, if you will have my personal volumes removed from the school library and sent to my residence?" Dumbledore nodded sharply.

"I think this concludes our business then." Representative #1 finished. Without a further word the two gathered their things and left the office.

"Severus, allow me a few days and I shall have this sorted-" Dumbledore began.

"No." Snape said. "I am done, Albus, I have done all you asked me to, I have paid my dues, I have tried to be that kind professor you wanted while feeding you information from the underground. Albus, I am not a kind and jolly man. I do not like children and their inattentive attitudes towards my craft bring me closer to intentional hexing every day. I am done."

Dumbledore sat silently, for once without a response. He simply watched as Snape rose and strode towards the door.

Snape paused. "You may always count on me in your endeavors, Albus." And with that, he was gone.

Dumbledore sat in silence for some time. He had known that it was only a matter of time until an official inquiry occurred, but had never considered that Severus had been hoping it would. He fully intended to respect Severus' wishes, and to take him up on his offer of aid when the time came. Though what aid he would be willing to offer was certainly in question now.

Dumbledore shook himself and began the difficult task of finding a replacement professor mid-year.

Angel was doing business research when the house elf startled him.

"Professor Vampire Sir!" The house elf waited patiently while Angel yelped and then retrieved his copy of _Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency_ after it had landed perilously close to the fire.

"Headmaster Dumbledore needs you Sir!" The elf piped. Angel thanked the elf and quickly made his way to the headmaster's office. To his surprise, Albus was waiting at the gargoyle to meet him.

"Thank you for coming. I discovered Mr. Potter wandering the castle in quite a bad state a short while ago. He had a vision of some kind and is quite inconsolable and has been asking for Sirius and for you." Dumbledore explained. "I am glad that Mr. Potter is opening up to a staff member. He keeps far too much to himself."

Angel was silent.

"He is in my office, Fawkes has calmed him for the moment, but I would appreciate it if you would speak to him, my presence only seems to agitate him further." Albus said.

Angel nodded. Albus spoke the password and Angel rushed up the stairs. And found out that phoenix song made Angelus' presence very subdued. Shaking off that revelation he turned his attention to Harry.

The kid had one of the worst 2,000 yard stares Angel had ever seen. Tear tracks covered his face while dark circles under his eyes emphasized the empty expression.

"Harry." He didn't move.

"Harry." He didn't move.

"It wasn't your fau-"

"HOW WOULD YOU KNOW?!" Harry erupted. "How would you know ANYTHING about it?! How many people can you see die inside your head?! HOW MANY?! You think you can fix me?! Think it'll all be fine because it's just a DREAM? HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE YOU SEEN DI-"

"Thousands." Angel said brusquely. "Thousands upon thousands."

Harry regarded him. Not in horror, but as though he was weighing him very carefully.

"The vampire demon spent over a century killing for food and for pleasure before gypsies cursed him, me, with my original soul. One night I was following a pretty woman into an ally with sex on the brain, the next I woke up in a clearing with blood on my teeth and the memories of thousands of people dying by my hands." Angel said bluntly.

Harry was listening.

"I tore a man's face off and made him eat it, bit by bit, before I killed him. I killed a woman's six children one by one, youngest to oldest, and then let her live, but not before blinding her so that would be the last thing she ever saw. I tore out a priest's throat, carved a cross on his cheek, and left the body on the church steps just before mass." Angel continued.

"The vampire demon used my body to do all of those things and has no remorse, he enjoys the memories, feeds them, loves to relive them. There's another thing in here with me." Angel pointed to his temple. "It wants to kill and wants everything to suffer."

Harry was silent, but his gaze was present. Angel let him think. They sat in silence for a bit.

"After I have a vision, everything turns red for the next day. And I can hear what Voldemort says. I have to watch what he does and what he makes his Death Eaters do."

Harry said, voice hoarse. "He's weak, but he can still curse. He made the death eaters bring him muggles and he just cursed them over and over until they died. Seven of them. And he cursed them all in different ways and I had to watch it and feel it and I couldn't do anything."

Tears started to spill down Harry's face while he spoke.

"One of them was my age. He was so scared he pissed himself. Didn't know why he was being hurt, was saying sorry to his parents for sneaking out, said he'd never do it again, then he died screaming for his mum."

"Voldemort thought it was funny. Laughed about it, the Death Eaters laughed with him." Harry paused, tears spilling continuously down his face. "I wanted to die when I woke up from that. I wanted to kill him and die and just… I can't." He trailed off and hung his head.

Angel wanted to kill as well.

"Can I ask Wesley to research this?" Angel asked after a few moments.

"Research what?" Harry asked

"Wesley has a lot of contacts about fending off dark forces that I don't. If there's anything that can stop this from happening, Wesley can probably find it. Can I ask him to look?" Angel asked again.

Harry thought, then nodded, then looked up suddenly.

"You're the first person to ever ask my permission to talk about me." He said unhappily.

Angel didn't have anything productive to say to that.

"What do you want me to tell Dumbledore?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Tell him everything. If he knows anything about stopping it…"

"Understood." Angel replied. "And don't take this the wrong way," Harry's head shot up. "But you could probably use a counselor, because after I got my soul back I went crazy and ate rats for 14 years."

Harry gave an involuntary snort. _Success!_

"I know a guy in California. A watcher like Wesley, trustworthy, and really far away, can't get hurt. Want me to call him?" Angel offered. Harry nodded almost immediately.

"I mean, you can talk to anyone you want, but…"

"I know what you mean." Harry said. "D'you think they'd give me a sleeping potion tonight?"

"If they won't, I'll steal one for you." Angel promised.

Twenty minutes later Harry was out cold with a maximum dose of sleeping and anti-nightmare potion. Angel went back to Dumbledore's office. The headmaster was deep in thought at his desk but shook himself at Angel's knock.

"You heard everything, right?" Angel asked, certain that there was some form of surveillance in the office.

"Yes." Albus said without shame. "I must admit to a feeling of terrible despair. That Voldemort's thoughts have such reach to Harry's mind is something I had never imagined would occur. I fear for his safety and for what might occur if Voldemort learns what reach he has, what he might do to and through Harry, as Voldemort has shown himself capable of possession. I approve of Professor Wyndam-Price aiding us in the search for a barrier. I know of only one practice, Occlumency, that may help and it may be impossible for Harry to master in time. Who is the man you would have counsel Harry?"

"Rupert Giles. If he's willing to do it, there's no one I'd trust more with super powered teenagers." Angel said with a slight smile. "Cordelia could give him a great reference."

"I will write him at once. Though I am incredibly surprised that Harry was so receptive to the idea. Nevertheless, it is an excellent result." Albus said with a determined tone.

Angel waited. Albus raised an eyebrow in question.

"Aren't you going to scold me for telling him about my crimes?" Angel asked, almost annoyed.

"I thought that was quite masterful. Though the story about the rats was an obvious fabricat-" Albus trailed off at Angel's embarrassed expression. "No wonder it worked. Thank you for coming."

Angel nodded and left. _No one ever believes me about the rats._

At 9pm on November 20th a fireball appeared in the living room. In one smooth motion Giles' crossbow was in hand and aimed at the space where the fireball had been, only to see a handsome male phoenix who quickly perched on the back of his couch. Giles had never seen one and felt his tension dissolve as the phoenix sung a few reassuring notes. After a few moments the phoenix lifted one leg to reveal a scroll clutched in one set of talons and politely trilled. Rapidly collecting himself Giles took the scroll. The phoenix trilled a happy tone, appeared to get comfortable in its perch and stared at him expectantly. With a start, Giles hurriedly unrolled the scroll.

_To Mr. Rupert Giles,_

_I have been told you have great understanding of the emotional needs of teenagers with unimaginable responsibilities. My name is Albus Dumbledore and I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and one of my students is in dire need of assistance that I am unable to provide. The young man has recently witnessed a mass murder via a psychic link from a curse. While I may have a solution to the link itself, I do not have the necessary trust with the young man to help him emotionally, nor is there anyone in the wizarding community who could be given full confidence. You were recommended by the vampire Angel, who has been in my employ for the last three months, and who has shown remarkable wisdom in helping the young man already. If you would send your response back with Fawkes, I would be most grateful._

_A. Dumbledore_

Several dozen racing thoughts fought for consideration. Strongest was the absolute certainty that he would help, second was the sudden dismay that he had broken his favorite tea cup in reaching for the cross bow and that his carpet was now stained, third was the idea that Angel could legally be employed by a school. There was the persistent realization that he might open himself, and by extension, Buffy, up to more danger, but in the end, he sent a letter back with the phoenix. He would of course help. Provided this headmaster would come and meet with him first, and successfully pass through several wards. He had known a wizard to go bad, after all.

The next day, looking well rested for the first time in weeks, Harry stayed after in class.

"Professor... if I'm a wind elemental are there thin-" Harry trailed off at Wesley's confused expression.

"You're not a wind elemental, Harry, wind elementals are sylphs." Wesley said.

"But," Harry began, confused. "Last week, with the demon, I thought you said I used elemental magic."

"You did, but having an affinity for element based magic is very different from being an elemental." Wesley explained gently.

"Oh." Harry responded, crestfallen.

"Harry," The boy looked up, hopeful and disappointed all at once, "I promise I will leave no stone unturned in my search, and that includes any air based magic, but I cannot promise you anything that you don't have." Wesley paused. "Both of your parents were human, correct?"

"Um, yes." Harry answered, fairly certain someone would have mentioned it if they hadn't been.

"Then, we will continue on. Though I would recommend Bachman's _Wind Beneath My Wings _if you can get your hands on it. Don't try the superman spell without a spotter." Wesley advised with a grin.

"Yes, Professor." Harry promised, a small smile finally beginning to form.

Author's Note: So. It's been an embarrassingly long time, but I got an urge this evening and out came a chapter. Hope you all enjoy!


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